


where the past can't reach us

by mediocredunce



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lots of it, Reader-Insert, Wish Fulfillment, im edgy okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 111,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocredunce/pseuds/mediocredunce
Summary: A girl wakes up in the Western Air Temple. Once a peaceful Air Nomad, she becomes public enemy number two of the Fire Nation. A banished prince and a fugitive - similar, yet so different. As they navigate their troubled pasts and figure out their identities, they grow closer. But just how close can you get to the Fire Nation Prince before you get burned?-Imma be straight with you - this is shameless wish fulfillment, and I do mean shameless. Protag is OP and has a depressing backstory. Dead parents. Multiple mental breakdowns. If your repressed emo phase still haunts you and is looking for a release, this it is. Strap in ladz:)
Relationships: Zuko (Avatar)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about all the POV changes in the first chapters. This is my first fic and I'm still learning - the writing quality will improve as the story progresses.

A ray of light broke into the cold, dark room, illuminating the thick blanket of dust that had settled on every possible surface. The room was still; everything was quiet and nothing moved. It must have been this way for a few decades at least, untouched by the usual wear and tear that happens to abandoned buildings. Then again, it wasn't _completely_ abandoned.

The bright light settled on the face of a young girl, no more than twelve years old. She lay on a bed - the only piece of furniture in the room that wasn't coated in dust. Judging by the state of the room, she hadn't moved in a _long_ time. But now, things were about to change. The warm sunlight washed over her closed eyes, gently breaking through her sleep. Her eyelids twitched for a few seconds. She woke up.

* * *

I looked over the room, eyes gradually adjusting to the light, and tried to take in every detail. Where was I? Why was I here? And, most importantly, how long had I been here for? And... _Who_ was I?

Confused, I sat up and tried again to understand something from my surroundings. At the foot of my bed, there was a note written on fragile yellow paper. It looked _old_ , as if my only clue to getting any kind of answers would disintegrate at the lightest touch. But, oh well, what other choice did I have? I unfolded the note and began reading.

_Dear (y/n), I don't know how long you've been asleep, or if you've woken up at all, but in case we're not here to explain everything to you when you do wake up, I thought it would be best to write you a letter._

_The magic we used on you was ancient and rare. We don't fully know ourselves how it works. You could wake up with no memory of your life. You could wake up decades into the future. You could remain in the spirit world forever._

_The reason we were forced to use this magic was because of a series of unfortunate events that almost led to your death._

_The circumstances of your passing would have been, to put it mildly, less than desirable – your troubled mental state at the time of death would have led to great difficulties in your next life - so we thought that a prolonged coma would help to calm your spirit before your rebirth. However, if we have fully succeeded, you shouldn't have died at all - your body should have healed and you should be awake and reading this. So, without further ado, here are the basics:_

_Your name is (y/n). You live in the Western Air Temple. You are twelve years old._

_To get more information about yourself and what happened during the time you were asleep, please give this note to the first adult monk you see, and I'm sure they would be happy to explain everything. I can only hope that, by the time you wake up, there will still be Air Nomads left in the area. These are uncertain and dangerous times, and nobody knows what will become of the world in the next few months and years._

_For now though, I wish you mental strength and a peaceful existence. I hope that, by the time you're awake, everything would have worked itself out._

_Your mentor,_

_Mother Jamyang_

I read the letter again and then once more for good measure. It didn't exactly tell me much. _"A series of unfortunate events that almost led to your death"_ – what was that supposed to mean? _"Troubled mental state"? "Prolonged coma"? "Western Air Temple"? "Air Nomads"? "Uncertain and dangerous times"?_ It was all making my head spin. But at least I knew four things for certain:

My name was (y/n), I was twelve, I was currently in the Western Air Temple (wherever that was), and I had nearly died but was magically put in a coma. Great. I rolled my eyes, realising I'd need to figure things out on my own.

I crossed the room, sneezing at least five times in the process, and opened the door. The wind was fresh and cold against my face, a sensation I hadn't felt in... How long exactly? But what surprised me the most was the view. I was on the middle floor of a building, except – the building was upside down? And it wasn't just _my_ building; everything around it was the wrong way up. I was standing on a temple under a cliff, tucked out of the way of the world, suspended in the air. I tried my hardest not to look down.

It took me a few minutes to regain my composure. No matter what, if I wanted a better idea of what was going on, I would have to explore this mysterious structure. Find some people, some _answers_. Because, right now, answers were what I needed more than anything. And with that in mind, I set off to explore the Western Air Temple.

* * *

General Tomin of the Fire Nation Army was on holiday with his wife, and what better place to go than the Western Air Temple? For him, it would be a chance to see the result of his ancestors' dedication to the Fire Lord, and for Mayako... Well, she'd probably appreciate anything foreign. She was a bit odd like that, Tomin thought, always curious about other cultures, maybe _too_ curious. But she was his wife, and he loved her, and even if tomorrow she came to him and confessed that she'd secretly been plotting to assassinate the Fire Lord for years, and she was planning on doing it tomorrow, he would keep his mouth shut when the secret police inevitably came knocking on their door. For they would certainly come – they always did, but he loved his wife more than he loved his country. Still, it felt great looking at the deserted temple. Such a masterful work of architecture, once home of Avatar Yangchen, now conquered by the Great Fire Nation. The beautiful view, quiet and peaceful, the silent stairwells...

"Honey!" Mayako called out to her husband from about fifty meters away. She'd ran excitedly up the stairs and into the inner temple so fast that Tomin had lost sight of her, but her voice rang out clearly through the noiselessness of the deserted building.

"Yes, love?" Tomin shouted back.

"Come look at what I found! Oh, you won't believe this!"

Loudly sighing, but suppressing a small smile at his wife's enthusiasm, Tomin quickened his pace up the stairs. In a few minutes, he reached Mayako, and stood staring, dumbfounded at her discovery.

He was expecting something completely mundane, something that probably had meaning to his wife alone, something to look at for a few seconds and then immediately to forget. At best it would be something historical that would give him a deeper appreciation of the Air Nomad culture. He most definitely wasn't expecting _this_.

In front of him stood a young girl, not yet a teenager, dressed in the yellow and orange Air Nomad robes. Her (h/c) hair was messy and tangled, and her eyes looked inquisitively into his own. It was impossible to tell which one of the two was more confused. In her hand, she held a note. Tomin shifted his questioning eyes to his wife, a wordless request for an explanation. Mayako beamed at him.

"Look, honey, isn't she sweet?"

Tomin shook his head.

"Look Mayako, I don't know what's going on here, but this can't possibly be real. I mean this, this kid, she can't possibly be alive! All this time I thought- I was told- All the history books said..." he looked abruptly back at the girl. "Little girl, who are you? Where are your parents?"

She didn't answer, and instead handed him the note. He read it quietly, then handed it to his wife. When they'd both finished reading, they exchanged a look. If what the note said was true, then that had to mean...

"Little girl..." Tomin started, "Um, (y/n)..."

"Yes?" She replied, her voice coming out hoarser than she meant it to.

"Um," the General started again, uncertain how to ask the question, "Um, (y/n), are you the Avatar?"

He held his breath, hoping for (y/n) to deny it. Of course, bringing the Avatar to the Fire Lord would bring him great honour among his compatriots, but then the little girl would have to endure unimaginable horrors... Not to mention the very real possibility that Mayako would never speak to him again. He looked at (y/n), the silent plea visible in his eyes. (Y/n) just responded with another confused look.

"The, um, Avatar?" she asked, "What's that?"

Wow. That was not the answer Tomin expected. However, his wife was not surprised that easily.

"The Avatar has the power to master all four elements. Water, earth, fire and air! Whereas most people can only bend one element."

"Whoa, back up there!" exclaimed (y/n). "First of all, bending? Elements? What on earth is that? And secondly, I barely even know my name and age! How would I know if I'm the Avatar? You read the note! It said I might not remember anything after whatever weird magic tricks they did to me, and well, they got that right, I don't! So, um... please tell me what's going on."

Mayako's eyes lit up. She knew a long explanation was in store, but it would be worth it – after all, if (y/n)'s memory was jogged a little, who knew what the young Air Nomad might reveal? Besides, Mayako enjoyed sharing her extensive historical knowledge with others. And so, she began.

* * *

I listened intently as Mayako explained bending to me, as well as a summary of the history of the world up until a century ago. Everything seemed fine, but then Mayako's voice grew quieter and took on a more serious tone.

"One hundred years ago... the Fire Nation started a war. A war that is still going on to this day. They started it by..." she trailed off.

"By what?" I asked, curious as to why she would stop all of a sudden.

Then, Tomin spoke. "Honey, are you sure we should tell her this? I just think that... you know, it _was_ justified and she _is_ an Air Nomad but she's still a child..."

"Tell me what?"

Well, I had to know _now_.

"It was –" started Mayako, "It was a terrible war crime that would make any decent person's blood boil." Mayako looked pointedly at her husband. "Perhaps you will find out when you're older."

"Excuse me!" retorted Tomin. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that – I'll have you know Fire Lord Sozin had no other choice! Yes, what happened was sad, but, unfortunately, sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."

Mayako's eyes lit up in anger. "The greater good?! I know you're, uh, patriotic and all, but this is beyond reason!"

"Um, Mayako, Tomin..." I tried to interject, not wanting them to fight because of me. "It's fine, we don't have to talk about –"

"Yes, sweetie, we do!" Mayako shot back. "Look, I'm sorry you have to witness this but if only you knew _what_ exactly this _buffoon_ was trying to defend, you would be completely on my side!"

I sighed. They had reached the stage of pure insults, there was no stopping the argument now. Defeated, I stepped back and took a seat on a patch of weeds, ready to watch the scene unfold.

"Right," said Tomin, making a last ditch attempt to reason with his wife, "I understand how you feel about this but you have to understand – the Fire Nation _improves_ the lives of the other nations! We are the inventors, the masterminds, look at our technology! Do you really think those _backwards_ Water Tribes can figure out how to build tanks like we can?" He scoffed. "They can't even figure out the basics of urbanization! The Earth Kingdom citizens are worse – they haven't even figured out how to _take a bath_! And as for those Airbending hippies –"

"That's it! Shut up, I've absolutely had it with you!" yelled Mayako. "You are _not_ a patriot!" her voice changed abruptly to a menacing whisper. Small flames erupted from her pale hands. "You, Tomin, are a disgusting racist! You're only proud of being a _firebender_ because you have no other significant achievements to speak of. You're a brainwashed tool, a slave to the Fire Lord, nothing but cannon fodder. I am ashamed to be married to such an oaf."

The flames were growing bigger and bigger by the second, and all I could do was hope nobody got burned. Tomin took a step closer towards her, his voice taking on a similarly ferocious growl.

"You call me a buffoon, you call me an oaf, an embarrassment – but I suggest you hold your tongue. Because right now, one word from me to the right people could land you in jail, or even worse, in the _cemetery_."

"Oh? A threat? Is that all that the great General Tomin is capable of when it comes to defending his ideals? I'm not scared of you. You're _pathetic."_

"Mayako, you have no idea –"

"No! I know _very_ well how dangerous it is to say what I am saying, you have made that clear to me hundreds of times before! But, Tomin, the facts remain the same."

Mayako stared at her husband in disgust, before spitting out her final words.

"I would rather be imprisoned and tortured every single day for the remainder of my life than to defend a _genocide_."

And with that, the fight was over. A long silence ensued. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard – a genocide? A knot of dread began to form at the pit of my stomach. This was bad, very bad. But I had to ask, I _had_ to find out the truth. I just wasn't sure I would be able to handle it.

"G-genocide?" I whispered.

* * *

Mayako looked at the girl with wide eyes, the flames covering her hands immediately dying down.

"I'm... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have –"

She stared at the scared little girl in front of her, eyes begging for forgiveness.

"Just tell me," said (y/n) quietly, "There's no point trying to hide anything now."

"O-okay," said Mayako, taking a deep breath. She knelt down in front of (y/n) and began. "You've been asleep for... a while. Judging by the note speaking of dangerous times... it must have been written a couple months before the start of the war. That would mean you've been asleep for ninety-seven years. You fell asleep just in time to avoid the tragedy. What happened was..." she trailed off. It was impossible to deliver this kind of news to a child so young and fragile. Nevertheless, she had to try. It was the least she could do to repay the sins of her country.

"Fire Lord Sozin was a ruthless and destructive man, seeking to dominate the world. The only person who could possibly get in the way of his goals was the Avatar, who was an airbender. So..." She took a deep breath. "So he killed all of the airbenders in the world, thus starting the Hundred Year War. If the Avatar didn't survive... you might be the last airbender there is."

With that, Mayako broke down. She wrapped her arms tightly around (y/n), whispered apologies scattered amongst her sobs. Meanwhile, (y/n) sat there in shock, trying to process the news, tears slowly forming in the corners of her eyes. She stared blankly at the sky, wondering how this was possible, how this had happened, how any of this was real. And then the realisation hit her, waves of grief crashing relentlessly onto the shore that was her mind. _She was alone._

Looking at the pair huddled together crying, General Tomin felt something in his heart change. Maybe his wife had been right, after all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Two and a half years passed since Mayako and Tomin found me. They took me back home with them, in the end. Gave me some Fire Nation clothes, said I was the daughter of some distant relative who had perished in battle, and no more questions were asked. Mayako did it out of pity, and Tomin initially wanted to keep an eye on me in case I actually was the Avatar. He was relieved to find that I was not. In fact, I seemed to be thoroughly incapable of any kind of bending whatsoever.

I went to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls with Azula. She was _meant_ to be one of my "best friends", so she came around to my house occasionally. Tomin knew the Fire Lord, and I guess since they both had kids around the same age, that meant we should get along.

To be fair, I did make an effort, and even kind of felt bad for Azula. It wasn't her fault her dad was a murderous dictator who forced her to dedicate her life to war. But, my goodness, after a while it got hard to feel bad for someone who tried her hardest to make me feel miserable. She had a lot to make fun of me for.

Firstly, I was the new kid. I found it hard to fit in with any pre-established friend groups.

Secondly, in the first few months after my arrival, I knew nothing about Fire Nation culture, or pretty much any subject at school. Neither did I try to pay attention – it was all propaganda anyway. Thankfully, Mayako tutored me at home so that I could catch up to the level of the rest of the class, and by the end of my first year I was actually doing quite well academically, but first impressions are lasting impressions.

Thirdly, I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the war. When asked whether I would sacrifice my life for the Fire Lord or some other rubbish like that, I'd usually just nod, and then try to leave the conversation as soon as possible. Some people assumed I was just quiet, but Azula thought I was hiding something.

Where I didn't succeed with friends, I at least got along with my new parents. Tomin eventually warmed up to me, started agreeing with his wife more (though that didn't always mean he'd admit it). He wasn't about to go start a revolution or anything, but he was by this point far more critical of Ozai's totalitarian regime. And, when he wasn't busy with his General duties, he was a good father.

I got along with Mayako from the start. As well as tutoring me with school subjects, she also showed me her secret library. There were books about pretty much everything you could think of, but what interested us the most were the books about the other countries of the world. I got to learn more about my culture, as well as things about the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom.

The more I read, the harder it became for me to sit through lessons at school. It was hours upon hours of lies, stories about how firebenders were the master race and everyone else should exist only to serve them. I couldn't stand it, but I also couldn't say anything. Any opposition to the regime would have meant immediate death not only for me, but for my parents, and I just couldn't let that happen.

That's what my life was like for the two and a half years after I woke up. Then, one day, everything changed.

It started out as a normal school day, by reciting our daily oath of unconditional loyalty to the Fire Lord. Then, a lesson on bending theory, and finally before lunch, history.

My teacher paced around the classroom, alternating between scribbling on the board and shouting lies at us. Every so often, the chalk would break from the sheer violence with which he wrote. I usually tried to avoid his wrath – sat at the back, stayed quiet. It had worked for the most part. At least then I could _pretend_ I was somewhere else, keep the anger at bay somehow. But that day, luck was not on my side.

"(y/n)!" he barked, causing me to jump in my seat.

"Y-yes?" I stammered, reluctantly standing up to answer.

"Remind us, what was the first battle of the Great War, and the reasons why it happened!"

The sinking feeling that had slowly been building up in my stomach since my name was called overcame my body in an instant. Of all questions... _this_ _one._ I froze, my eyes already beginning to water.

"Well, (y/n)? We're waiting!"

I couldn't afford to hesitate. I _had_ to answer this. No matter how painful it was.

"Fire Lord Sozin started the Great War with his victory against the Air Nation Army."

I paused. Even this was too much – the history lesson equivalent of twisting the knife around inside someone's stab wound. And, worst of all, there was nothing I could do about it. I had to pretend. I continued.

"Fire Lord Sozin did it to destroy the Avatar, to make sure nobody could stand in the way of the Fire Nation's noble quest to bring order and prosperity to the other nations. The Avatar was a threat, with the Air Nation Army helping him. They all had to be neutralized."

I hoped I wouldn't have to say any more - I felt dirty and wrong and like a complete traitor. I could remind myself it wasn't my fault all I wanted, but that didn't stop the guilt.

I was about to sit back down when, once again, my teacher's words hit me like a bag of bricks.

"Good. Now tell me... Do you think what happened to the airbenders was justified?"

My eyes widened in shock as the words left his mouth. I swallowed, trying my hardest to push my feelings aside.

"Of course. They were uncivilized savages getting in the way of the Fire Nation's plans, stupid enough to work against their own interests. Their lives weren't worth anything, anyway."

"Good, (y/n). I agree. You may sit down!"

I sat still for the rest of the lesson, staring motionlessly at my desk as the tears fell from my eyes. I had just betrayed my friends, my family, my entire race. I was a traitor.

If anything, it was _my_ life that was worthless.


	2. Goodbyes

By the time the next lesson came around, the sadness had transformed into insurmountable rage. It wasn't just this situation on its own - though having to denounce my nation in front of the very people who had destroyed it was bad enough. It was more a build-up of everything I'd endured in this country, all the hate directed at other nations, all the insults, all the lies. This was just the last straw.

Thankfully, I could just fake a twisted ankle in order to not participate in the next lesson - it was just bending practice (or regular martial arts in my case, since I couldn't bend). I was sent up to the library with another girl to work on homework instead.

That day, I took out my books as usual, hoping the work would distract me. It did not. If anything, it made me even angrier. The lies, the propaganda was everywhere, permeating every page of every Fire Nation textbook. Maths questions about finding the speed of a Fire Navy warship, Biology texts about the Fire Nation's genetic superiority, not even mentioning the required reading for Literature.

I couldn't focus. Emotions swirled around in my head, an inferno of shame and despair and rage. Intense, all-consuming rage, rage to an extent I had never felt before. I hated this country and everything it stood for.

They had come for my people. An entire race, human beings with homes and beliefs and best friends, mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of Sozin. Pacifists that had, even with the Avatar, never been a threat to anyone. All wiped out, dead.

And then, what made it all the more painful, they had the audacity to lie about it. Making the Air Nomads out to be stupid and uncivilized - simultaneously an empty mountain wasteland full of dumb hippies, and a violent nation threatening the Fire Lord with a full-fledged army of its own. It was trash, complete and utter nonsense, all of it.

I hated the Fire Nation, and I hated not being allowed to say that out loud. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops, to rip up all the textbooks, tear down all the propaganda posters. To blow up the tanks, sink the ships, break the walls. To destroy every reminder of the pain this country had brought to me, and so many others. To get my revenge. I wanted this place to burn.

"(y/n)!"

The girl's voice broke through my train of thought.

"(y/n), what on earth are you doing?"

"Huh?" I asked. I wasn't doing anything...

"The table!" she cried. "Look at the table!"

The smell of burning wood suddenly hit me, and I looked down to see that somebody had lit the table on fire. With growing horror, I looked at my hands, and realised that it was me.

* * *

When (y/n) came home, she was relieved to find both her parents in the lounge.

"Hello dear! How was school?" asked Mayako cheerfully.

"Mayako... Tomin... I need to tell you something."

"What's wrong, (y/n)?" asked Tomin.

"Well... I think I should just show you," (y/n) whispered. She hesitated, then held out her hand. After a few seconds, a small flame appeared on it.

"Wow, (y/n)... I thought..." started Tomin. He didn't know what to say.

What he saw worried him. For two years, he'd been convinced that the mysterious Air Nomad child he had taken in couldn't bend, a thought that brought him great relief. If she couldn't bend, that would be easier for everyone - no hidden abilities, no awful punishments when the truth inevitably rose to the surface. However, after what he'd just seen... This was much worse.

"Aren't you meant to be an airbender?" he finally said.

(y/n) said nothing, only stared at the floor.

"How did you find out? How long have you known?" asked Mayako.

"I found out today. I don't want to talk about how."

"Okay."

Mayako also didn't know what to say. She'd seen (y/n) try to bend before, but to no avail, so why now? What did this mean? But, she remembered, (y/n) was probably more confused about it than she was, and so she needed support in this difficult time. Mayako quickly replaced the shock on her face with a smile.

"Well, I guess that means you should learn to firebend! I can teach you, if you want."

(y/n) thought about it for a few seconds. Her decision depended on an extremely important question that she couldn't yet answer - the question Tomin had asked - wasn't she meant to be an airbender? If she was an airbender with the additional use of fire - if that was even possible - then that would be okay, she thought. But if she wasn't actually an airbender - if this meant her biological parents had somehow been from the Fire Nation... well, she hated this country. She felt sick at the mere thought. It was one thing to be adopted by two of the very few actually good people there were in this country. But actually being from the Fire Nation herself? That was another thing entirely. (y/n) stood in place, looking at the floor, not knowing what to answer. As it turned out, she didn't have to answer anything.

_Knock, knock._

"I wonder who that is?" said Tomin, "I'll go check."

He didn't have time to open the door before five Fire Nation policemen kicked it down.

"General Tomin! Mayako!" one of them yelled. "You are hereby arrested for the possession of banned literature, a subset of treason!"

Nobody tried to deny it. They knew they were guilty.

"I'm sorry," whispered Mayako, and after that, nobody spoke. The family walked dejectedly out of their house, surrounded by Fire Nation soldiers. They were done for.

By the time Tomin, Mayako and (y/n) arrived at their destination, the sun was already beginning to set. The beautiful colours of the sky, exquisite shades of pink, orange, and purple, provided a stark contrast to the large, grey cube of a building that (y/n) guessed must be a secret police station. Inside the building, there were mazes of corridors, leading to rows upon rows of reinforced metal doors.

"Where is this?" asked Tomin, breaking the ominous silence that had fallen. But there was no reply. Just more and more guards, hallways, locked rooms. It was a good example of Fire Nation architecture, thought (y/n), trying her hardest to distract herself with sarcasm. Truly the epitome of this country's ideals. Order, monotony, despair.

After a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours of walking - (y/n) couldn't quite decide what felt more real - they finally reached a door, seemingly no different from the rest. The policemen opened it, and threw the family inside. It was a plain room, with nothing but three chairs, a desk, and a person (y/n) didn't know sitting behind it. As soon as the last of the policemen entered, he started speaking.

"Tomin... Mayako. I wish I could say I'm happy to see you, but under these circumstances... Oh dear, I expected better from a General."

He paused for effect, the dim candlelight illuminating his sadistic grin.

"A few days ago, we received a tip from, let's say... a very important and reputable source, that you had some banned books hidden in your house. We have concluded that this is indeed the case."

Mayako suddenly sat up in her chair, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"When did you search the house? I'm there all the time and I didn't notice anything!"

"Well... Technically, no formal search was conducted." The man smirked. "But the aforementioned source saw it all personally, and we have no reason to disbelieve them. Sometimes, the word of a person important enough is sufficient evidence."

Seeing Mayako's dumbfounded expression, he went on.

"I know what you must be thinking. This is unfair! But, since you've been reading forbidden literature... You should know better than anyone that the Fire Nation is not always a nation of justice."

Mayako stared at the floor in defeat, or maybe just so that she didn't have to look at the creepy smile that never seemed to leave the man's face. She didn't know what else to say. Whoever it was who snitched, it was clearly someone of great importance. There was nothing she could do.

After a while, Tomin spoke. "What will happen to us now?"

"Well, you see..."

The man got up from his desk and took a step towards Tomin.

"If you'd just been a regular citizen, Tomin, then you and your wife would have been sent to... a compulsory work therapy centre. But, Tomin, you are no regular citizen, oh no!"

He bent down until his eyes were level with Tomin's, and still, his smile remained intact.

"Fire Lord Ozai expected much better from someone entrusted with the duties of a General. And he took your betrayal very personally. He really did have faith in you, you know? Your -"

"Just get to the point," interrupted Mayako. It was unbearable listening to the man's sinister taunts. He slowly turned around to look at her, sick pleasure written all over his face.

"Oh my, someone's forgotten their manners! But alright, I'll do as you wish. In short - Tomin, Mayako, you are to be executed. (y/n)..." he looked at the girl, acknowledging her presence seemingly for the first time. "You are to watch."

A suffocating silence filled the room. There was nothing left to say.

The sun blazed orange in the scarlet sky, casting huge, purple shadows behind every pebble. No birds sang, no insects circled each other in the cool evening air. The whole world was quiet, nature itself frozen in time, watching, waiting. Only one thing moved, something that nobody had noticed until now, its slender silhouette swaying gently in the breeze. The small, elegant loop of a noose. Pitch-black against the burning horizon, the concrete facility stood still. Then, suddenly, a door opened, and two people were led out of the building.

It was inevitable that things would end this way, Tomin supposed. He always thought it was a possibility, ever since he felt his heartbeat quicken at Mayako's smile for the first time, and, by the time (y/n) had come home with him, he knew it was the only outcome. As the noose tightened around his neck, and his body thrashed about wildly in mid-air as if it was no longer his own, he felt a sense of calm wash through him for the first time in years. Tomin died with no regrets.

Mayako was next, trembling as she walked up to the spot where her husband had just died. She had always been ready to die fighting for her beliefs, and now that she was writhing on the coarse rope, mouth agape for oxygen that would never reach her lungs, she stuck firmly by her convictions. What she did regret was bringing her husband and her daughter (for she had grown to view (y/n) as such) into this. "I'm sorry," she said, her last words almost unintelligible through her futile gasps for air. And then it was over, Mayako's shame and guilt wiped away completely, like waves washing away shells and pebbles from the shore. Her body hung limply from the noose.

The sun sank further into the horizon, the crimson flames of the sunset sky slowly fading, replaced by deep shades of blue. The harsh shadows softened, lost their purple tint, and the shroud of silence was slowly lifted from the world. Crickets chirped in the bushes, leaves rustled as hedgehogs and raccoons ran past. But the giant concrete block stood still and quiet as ever. A few men came out eventually, dragged two lifeless bodies into the facility, then left, locking the steel door behind them. They didn't say anything to the crying girl sat a short distance away from the noose, body collapsed in a shaking heap, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her bloodshot (e/c) eyes met the unforgiving grey of the men's, and they said all that needed to be said. (Y/n) had lost everything.

* * *

It had been a week since my parents died. After it happened, I was taken home by some men, and told I had seven days to grieve, get my belongings together, and move out. They didn't tell me where I'd be going next, and, to be honest, I don't think they either knew or cared themselves.

I didn't go back to school. I think even if I'd tried to, they would have turned me away before I so much as set foot in the building. Who would want to educate the child of traitors? Not that I missed that place, anyway.

I stayed at home that week, sat in my parents' bedroom, stared at the walls. The bedrooms were the only place that remained mostly untouched by the police. I didn't dare go into the library again. It was probably destroyed.

I spent my time trying to think about the happiest moments I'd shared with my parents. It was useless trying not to think about them at all, so I figured if I had to remember, I'd at least try to remember only the good bits. Even so, I could not stop the horrific images flashing before my eyes. When I slept, the memory resurfaced again and again, playing on repeat in my mind like a broken record from hell. I tried not to go to bed those nights. It was better to be sleep deprived than to witness it all over again.

The days should have by all means passed slowly, but before I knew it, it was time to leave. I didn't want to go through all the rooms of the house, so I only took what I really needed. Food and clothes. Basic sanitary supplies. A tent. My mother's hairpin. My father's knife. And with that, I was on my way, closing the door of the house I'd lived in for two and a half years for the last time.

Without a particular direction in mind, I started walking. The streets of Royal Caldera City spread out before me, lined with houses and fancy gardens and ceremonial buildings. The road was wide and clean, everything kept perfectly in order. The sky was clear and the weather was hot. I took in my surroundings - really took it all in - for the last time. I hated all of it.

Walking through the Fire Nation Capital was different now to how it used to be with Mayako and Tomin around. I still disliked the country back then of course, but at least I could appreciate its occasional beauty - smells of bonfires and barbecues wafting out into the streets from behind the walls of wealthy residences, children running around the squares, music playing at almost any minute of the day. Now, all pleasure I had derived from my surroundings was stripped away. I hated the patriotic hymns - what right did they have to be so proud of their murderous dictatorship, anyway? The children - future Fire Nation soldiers, their hands already stained with the blood of future victims. The smells were still nice, but even they couldn't disguise the stench of death that had permeated the entire nation since they'd killed my people. And they felt no guilt for any of it!

A corner turned. Another scarlet banner. A street crossed. Propaganda posters covered the walls. A plaza traversed. A giant statue of the Fire Lord. A shopping district walked through. Portraits of Ozai in every window display.

I was sick of it, I never wanted to see any of it again. And then it came to me - I didn't have to. I had no home, no school, no friends, no parents. I was free to go wherever I wanted, travel the world, and nothing and nobody could stop me! I sat down on a bench and breathed in the fresh afternoon air. For the first time ever, I was hit with the overwhelming realisation of my freedom.

After resting for a few minutes, I set off once again, this time with a purpose in mind. I was headed to the train station. From there, I would take a train to the harbour area, then hop on a boat, and sail to wherever the wind would take me.

* * *

When I got off the train at the harbour station two hours later, the first thing I noticed were the crowded streets. People bustled into and out of shops, ran into factories, ducked into alleyways. It was hard to breathe with so many people around - a problem only made worse by the clouds of smoke billowing from every chimney. What worried me, though, were the soldiers. There must have been hundreds of them. They weren't exactly _everywhere_ \- though there were a few patrolling the city - but the problem was their location. The guards were concentrated near the Royal Plaza - the only way into or out of the city from the sea. There was no way I could escape with them around.

I would have to come up with a new plan. I groaned. Just when everything had been going so well... For now though, I decided to wander the city streets looking as innocent as possible. I'd work something out by nightfall, I figured, and then it would be dark and the guards wouldn't see me as easily anyway.

It took another few hours for the sun to set. By now, my legs were tired of walking. I sat down on a bench to rest.

Everything was much quieter than it had been in the afternoon. Most people had gone home, and the streets were empty, except for the odd straggler. The soldiers still remained, but a few were beginning to doze off, put to sleep by the darkness and the fresh breeze of the sea. I waited.

I didn't know what I was waiting for, exactly. I still hadn't come up with any ideas of how to escape. But, maybe, if I waited long enough, something interesting would happen and then I'd know what to do.. A minute, two minutes, then five then ten then thirty went by. Nothing happened. Then, just as I was about to stand up and resume walking, I heard a voice that made the hairs all over my body stand on end.

"(y/n)... What a _pleasant_ surprise."

A shiver ran down my spine as I turned around to look at Azula.


	3. Answers

“Hello.”

I gritted my teeth, saying as little as possible in hopes she’d go away.

“You know, I heard about your parents…” she began, voice dripping with schadenfreude, “It’s a shame two such respected individuals turned out to be disgusting traitors.”

My hands were beginning to tremble. I looked at the ground, trying to calm myself down before I said something I would regret. Taking note of my silence, she continued:

“I pity you, I really do. However, as the Princess of the Fire Nation and next in line to the throne, you must understand it is my duty to make sure all traitors to our fatherland are punished with utmost severity.”

A quiet gasp left my mouth before I could stop it – was she implying what I think she was? I looked up into her eyes for an answer. Golden pits of sadism and indifference stared back at me. She smirked.

“I think you realise what I’m talking about. After seeing those books your parents kept in the basement, I had no choice but to take action.”

My mind went blank in shock and disbelief. She was just provoking me – she must have been lying – there was no way any of this could be true. And yet, as much as I refused to believe it, her voice had a heartless sincerity to it that made any denial futile. The full meaning of her words sunk in. _Azula had killed my parents._ The horrific images flashed in my mind once more, this time more vivid than ever: the concrete block, the burning horizon, the bodies flailing helplessly around on the noose like fish on a hook. The darkness. The emptiness. The despair.

My whole body heated up in anger, the cold sweat evaporating in an instant, taking with it the last shreds of my self-control. My vision went red. The city faded to an incoherent blur, and I could see nothing but Azula. _I wanted her dead._

As if on its own, my body charged towards her, hands filled with fire, arms swinging at her before my brain had registered a single movement. Shock flashed across her face – she had never seen me firebend before. My fist flew at that infuriatingly merciless smile.  
She stepped calmly out of the way.

I ran at her once again, punching the air to create a fireball that I sent hurtling in her direction.

She dodged effortlessly and her smirk grew wider.

“(y/n), is that honestly the best you can do? My, you’re pathetic. You –”

I interrupted her with a barrage of flames. The blazing orange bullets cut through the night, almost scorching her entire body, but once again, Azula jumped out of the line of fire.

“If you are so desperate for a fight, I should warn you. I will _not_ go easy on you,” she said, her mocking tone gaining a tinge of seriousness. I didn’t care. I wanted to fight to the death.

I sprinted forward to attack once more. Drawing my leg back for a kick, I anticipated another dodge from Azula's side. But instead, she remained rooted in place. A mysterious blue substance circled her, flashing and crackling as it moved. I had seen her blue fire before – and who hadn’t? – but this was something new entirely. I stopped for a short second, staring in awe. A second was all she needed.

Pure, blinding light erupted from her hands, illuminating the harbour in an instant. Everything went white and, for a moment, the night sky shifted into daytime. Flashes of – I realised in horror what it was – lightning split the darkness once, then twice, then three times, and then the night exploded into a booming electrical crash. I froze, paralyzed, as the light enveloped my whole body in its dazzling and dangerous beauty. And then, an excruciating pain shot through me.

I jolted back into reality.

Azula spoke.

“You know, it really didn’t have to turn out like this.”

She began to walk away and I had no strength left to stop her. My vision faded into darkness, and before my consciousness slipped away completely, I thought about how stupid I'd been to attack her. In my rage, I'd overestimated myself, but thinking back, I had no technique to speak of and no control over my bending whatsoever. She was right. I really was pathetic.

With that thought, everything went black.

* * *

(y/n) collapsed onto the grey tiles of the deserted plaza, clouds of smoke rising out of her now-ruined clothes. The sight pleased Azula. Her lightning bending was far from perfect, she was well aware of that, but she was glad it was at least able to knock people out. She smiled, before continuing to walk away from the scene. There was no need to alert the soldiers, she thought. They’d find (y/n) tomorrow morning, maybe alive, maybe dead, but what would it matter? Her parents were traitors, and (y/n) herself was quiet, weak, and potentially disloyal to the regime. Her life or death was irrelevant to the glorious Fire Nation.

Azula had almost left the plaza when she sensed something. She didn’t know what it was, exactly, a disturbance in the air, perhaps, or maybe it was the night getting just a little bit brighter. Whatever it was – instinctively, she turned around. Her jaw dropped at the sight.

(y/n) was lying on the ground, just as Azula had left her. But now, her eyes were open. Not just open, Azula realised with growing horror, they were glowing white. All of a sudden, (y/n)’s body jolted upwards, the glow in her eyes getting brighter with every second. It was Azula's turn to freeze in an uncomfortable mixture of terror and amazement.

(y/n) flew upwards until she was levitating a few metres above the ground. Water, rocks and dirt from the nearby streets and ocean rushed in to join the fire and air that was already forming into a sphere around her. Azula wanted to run but her legs rooted her to the ground. And then, when she came to her senses and the fear released its grip on her, movement returning to her limbs, she turned around and realised escape was impossible. A wall of rocks had shot up from the pavement and surrounded Azula in all directions.

She tried to fight it, of course, sending stream after stream of fire at the barrier. But any holes she managed to make disappeared as quickly as they had been created. The wall itself seemed to be regenerating as if it was a living being, each time growing back taller than it was before. Realising that attacking the wall was pointless, Azula focused her attention on (y/n). Blue flames shot at the bubble of elements, then disappeared with a hiss as they hit the water, or were blown apart by the swirling hurricane-force winds. Meanwhile, the walls were slowly but surely closing in on Azula, along with the unfamiliar feeling of powerlessness.

Refusing to give up, she tried sending more fire in (y/n)’s direction. As the flames once again failed to penetrate the sphere of defence, she silently cursed herself for not being better at lightning bending. She looked around for other ideas, and saw only the walls that were inching ever closer with each attack. Maybe she should try jumping, after all. Using the force of her flames to boost her upwards, she jumped, reaching two-thirds of the way up the wall before she fell. She tried again, this time boosting herself with both hands, which launched her significantly higher into the air. This was a good sign, she thought. If she could just jump up with enough power, she could hit the side of the wall, then launch herself off of that onto the other side, then climb out. She jumped once again. It wasn’t high enough, even lower than on the first attempt, in fact, and she landed, disappointed.

Azula stood still for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath. She was confused as to why two powerful blue flames from both hands had given her so small a boost. She had definitely _intended_ the flames to be as strong as usual, even stronger if anything, so why did they come out so weak and underdeveloped? Bewildered, she held out her hand and tried to make blue fire appear on it, just to check everything was alright with her bending. It was not. What she had assumed would be a small bonfire instead came out looking like a dying matchstick. What on earth was going on? And, on another note, thought Azula, why was it suddenly getting so much harder to breathe?

She looked up at (y/n)’s bubble, which was now suspended in mid-air directly above her. It looked different now, bigger, with the fire, water and earth surrounding (y/n) having disappeared almost completely. Actually, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it, it wasn’t that the amounts of the other three elements had decreased... It was more like the volume of air had increased. It was like all the wind from the surrounding areas had flown to join the spherical tornado. And, suddenly, Azula knew exactly what had happened. The reason she was out of breath, despite training physically every day. The reason her fire had become so inexplicably weak. The reason for the change in the bubble. (Y/n) had created the walled-off area where Azula was standing for more than just preventing escape. She was sucking the air out of it.

As the realisation hit her, so did the effects of oxygen deprivation, and, just like (y/n) had done only a few minutes ago, Azula collapsed on the pavement, vision fading to black.

The walls crumbled and the rocks returned to their rightful place on the streets of the harbour. The water of the element sphere evaporated and the fire died down. (y/n) floated back to the ground, the white glow in her eyes fading. She closed her eyes. And, when she opened them, she could finally take in what happened in the minutes she had been unconscious.

* * *

I woke up confused and disoriented, and still in a lot of pain. I remembered passing out during a fight with Azula... Was she still here? Was I safe? It did seem oddly quiet, so I assumed she had left. But were we seen by anyone? If the guards saw me fighting the Princess, I’d probably end up in a labour camp, at best. I looked around to check that I was alone, and, sure enough, there weren’t any guards around. What I saw instead, however, was much, much worse. Azula lay on the ground, unconscious. Or maybe even... I shuddered at the thought. Maybe even... dead.

The questions began to flood my mind. Had I done this? _What_ had I done? I passed out, so it couldn’t have been me... unless? Unless _what_? What on earth happened?

But I didn’t have time to think about that. If Azula was, in fact, alive, she would be waking up soon, and when she did, she would be out for my blood. I had to make my escape, and fast. And, luck being on my side for once, a thought on how exactly to do it finally came to me. It was stupid, and it was crazy, and it was incredibly dangerous. But, I thought, it might just work, and, in any case, I had nothing left to lose.

An hour later, I was as far away from Azula as I could be in this city, holding a saw and a large crate of apples, standing on the edge of a cliff. I’d stolen the crate from a warehouse that had been left unlocked, and that’s where the saw came from too. For once, life had done me a solid – I’d managed to commit a whole _two_ crimes today and there had been no guards around to stop me.

I knelt down behind a bush to shield myself from the wind that had picked up over the last hour, and began sawing the lid off the crate. This would take a while, unfortunately. As my hands went through the monotonous motions of back and forth, back and forth, then once again, and again, and again, my mind began to wander.

I was still really confused as to what happened with Azula. The spoiled, sociopathic brat had it coming, of course, there was no doubt in my mind about that, but who actually hurt her? I was out, so someone must have come by in the meantime – how long was I out for, anyway? – but then, who? And how? And why? I sighed, knowing I would probably never get an answer.

In another few minutes, the lid was off. I chucked it off the cliff – I wouldn’t be needing it. There was a splash as it hit the waves below, and for a second it disappeared, before coming back up and promptly being carried off somewhere into the distance. The apples were next. I knelt over the crate and tipped them out, except for a few that I kept to eat later. Then, I took my tent out of my bag of supplies and wrapped all my things in it. The tent was the only waterproof thing I had with me, so it would have to do.

Now, it was time for the risky bit. I walked up to the edge of the cliff and stared down at the ocean below. Tossing and turning like a child on a sleepless night, the turbulent water reflected the black sky, the darkness both calling to me and warning me to stay away. I didn’t want to do this. I wished there was another way. But, with hundreds of soldiers guarding the only safe way out of the Fire Nation into the sea, there was nothing else I could do. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the crate over the edge. Then, gripping onto my supply tent, I jumped in after it.

The water hit me hard. The force nearly pushed the tent out of my hands, but I managed to hold on as I kept falling into the ocean. My legs kicked at the murky depths in a desperate attempt to bring my body back up to the surface, but l only fell further. With one arm, I released my grip on the tent and clawed at the water. It was no use. I was running out of oxygen now, and growing ever more frantic. Panic overcame my senses and my instincts took over. I dropped the tent. Without the extra weight of my supplies, my body began to rise again, and now that I could use both my arms, I quickly swam back to the surface. My head crashed through the waves and I could finally breathe.

After a few minutes of swimming, I finally caught up to the crate. I climbed into it, exhaling with relief when it held my weight with no problem. I curled up into a ball, trying to warm up even a little. The night was cold and windy, and with every wave, a spray of water droplets landed on my soggy, tattered clothes. I shivered. The pain from Azula’s lightning strike was still very much present – a burning sensation in my chest that persisted despite the wet conditions. I was hungry too, and deeply regretting throwing away all my supplies. To top it all off, my fingers were numb with the cold. I could only hope that I’d wash up somewhere warm tomorrow morning, somewhere with food and shelter and kind strangers, somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t the Fire Nation. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

  
A whoosh. A swish. A crackle. A feeling of warmth. I opened my eyes to find myself sat by a lake in a forest, fish swimming just beneath the surface as a small fire burned nearby. My clothes were dry, and I didn’t feel hungry or in pain anymore. I looked around. The place was strange, but beautiful, in an ethereal, calming sort of way – trees twisting up into the sky, golden leaves falling like raindrops onto the water. A bird I didn’t recognize chirped somewhere in the distance, and another bird responded. The patch of grass I sat on was soft, a luscious green blanket with blue and white flowers scattered over it. The sky was clear, calm and yellow. I must be dreaming, I thought to myself. What a pleasant dream this was.

After a few moments, I heard leaves rustling in the distance, the sound gradually getting closer and closer. I turned around to see what was going on, and was met with an old man I was sure I’d seen before, but I wasn’t quite sure where.

“Hello?” I said nervously.

“Ah, (y/n)... It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“We spent almost a whole century together... but I suppose your words mean you don’t remember anything from before you woke up.” He smiled. “In that case, I’d better introduce myself. My name is Roku.”

“Hold on, Roku?” I exclaimed, “As in, Avatar Roku! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you, I’ve read so much about your life! I’m just... ugh, sorry,” I trailed off.

“You must be feeling very confused right now... Especially with what happened today.”

I nodded silently, not knowing what to make of the situation.

“Then, I will explain everything as much as I can.”

He sat down next to me. I had no idea what any of this meant, but I figured it was time to find out.

“It all started exactly one hundred years ago. Avatar Aang had just frozen himself in an iceberg, and we – that is to say, the spirits of the past avatars – were very concerned. Of course, as you’ve probably read in your books, if the Avatar dies, the spirit is resurrected into someone else. However, with Aang, he wasn’t exactly dead, nor was he fully alive.” He stopped and looked up, making sure I was following what he was saying. I nodded. He went on: “We recognised that the world was in danger, and that the Fire Nation’s imperialism was a problem that needed to be solved as quickly as possible. We had faith in Aang, of course. He was more than capable of fulfilling his duty. But what worried us was the iceberg. It could take years, decades, even centuries for him to unfreeze. We had to take into account the possibility that, by the time someone found Aang and got him out,” he paused, a grave expression settling on his face, “by that time, there might not even be a world left to save.”

“But that was a century ago! Is Aang out now?”

“Yes, two members of the Southern Water Tribe found him, only a few days ago, in fact.”  
I was relieved to hear the news. I honestly doubted the Avatar was even alive, despite what Mayako had said. And to be hearing the news from a previous Avatar, no less!

“That's great! But...” I looked at him, confused. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Yes, I suppose I should get to the point,” he chuckled. “We were getting desperate, but there was nothing we could do. Or so we thought, until you appeared."

“Appeared?”

“A few months after Avatar Aang froze himself, you appeared in the spirit world. It was very strange, since you weren’t dead. It’s very rare for living people to come here. We thought you’d leave after a few hours, a few days, at most. But you stayed here for ninety-seven years.”

“I was in a coma. The Air Nomads did some magic on me, I’m not quite sure what.”

“Yes... We thought that was the case, which is why we assumed you’d come back to the world of the living. We didn’t know how long that would take, but there were no other options. We took you in, spoke to you, tried to find out what kind of person you were. To see if you were suitable for the goal that was to lie before you if Aang never woke up. And we found that you were very much up to the job. So, after getting to know you well, we went through with our plan.” He turned to look at me.

“Tell me, (y/n), have you heard of the ancient art of energybending?”

I stopped to think, trying to remember what I’d read. After a few moments, I answered: “I know a bit, but not much. Barely anyone can do it these days, and even that’s an overstatement. You can give bending abilities to people and take them away, right?”

Roku smiled. “That is correct. It is also the only form of bending possible within the spirit world. That allowed the spirits of the previous Avatars to give you the power to bend all four elements. If Aang didn’t wake up, you were supposed to have gone on to defeat Fire Lord Ozai. Unfortunately, something we didn’t anticipate happened – when you woke up, we couldn’t contact you. You had no idea about any of this. That is, until now.”

I stared at Roku, millions of questions swimming around in my head like the fish I’d just been watching. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure where to begin. Eventually, I was able to form a coherent sentence, and so came the dreaded question: “I – I can only bend fire, though...”

“With time, you will learn to bend the other elements, too. You were a non-bender before your coma, so it will not be easy for you to adjust. However, I have faith that you can do it.”

I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t _actually_ a firebender, and not from the Fire Nation in any way.

“Is – Is that why I only discovered firebending recently? Why did it take me so long?”

He frowned. “I don’t know exactly... Bending works in mysterious ways. Maybe you needed strong emotions to get your chi flowing?”

“Right.”

We sat in silence for a while. I could do nothing but stare at the trees and the lake, just letting it all sink in. Another bird chirped in a distant tree. A frog croaked. The leaves continued to fall, guided by the gentle breeze. I didn’t know what to think. Finally, Roku spoke.

“I suppose you’ll want to know what happened with Azula.”

  
My eyes widened. Between nearly drowning, learning the Avatar was alive, and finding out about powers I never knew I had, I’d managed to forget about the whole Azula affair. But now that I’d remembered, I had to know.

“Of course, tell me!”

“I don’t quite know how to explain it. I... felt your presence all of a sudden, for the first time in years. I couldn’t see your spirit but I could sense it there, asking for help. I had a vision of you, lying on the ground and looking hurt. And then... I don’t know how else to explain it other than: you channelled me.”

“I – I did WHAT?!”

I stared at him, dumbstruck. What was I meant to say to that? Was that – was that even possible?

“You passed out; your spirit left your body. That meant your body was empty for me to take over.”

“Well...” I mumbled, still confused. “Um, what did you _do_ with it? I woke up, the area around me looked fine... but Azula was on the ground? Is she alive?”

“Of course! I removed the oxygen from the area around her so she passed out for a few minutes, which would allow you to get away. She must be awake now.”

“Great...” I sighed, staring blankly at the water. “So what happens now?”

Roku thought for a few seconds before responding.

“I think the best thing for you to do right now would be to assist Avatar Aang. Right now, he is on Kyoshi Island with his friends. I’ll help you get there. But first, I must warn you. I will probably not be able to contact you again unless you faint or in some other way enter the spirit world. You will have to rely on Aang for guidance – remember, a part of me is in him. And, secondly... If I am right about what happened today, that means that, if you lose consciousness again, your body will open up for spirits to possess you. If you’re lucky, it’ll be me, or Avatar Kyoshi, or another one of us. But if you’re not... who knows what kind of spirit will wreak havoc on the world through your body.”

With that, he rose from his spot and began to walk away.

“Be careful, (y/n). And good luck."

The area around me began to disappear, fish, water and trees evaporating out of existence. The crackling of the fire got quieter and quieter until I could no longer hear it. The sky was blue again, and my ears filled with the sounds of the ocean. I felt the cold breeze against my skin. Children yelled somewhere in the distance. Birds squawked. The pain in my chest came back, duller than it had been last night but still strong enough to make me wince. I sat up and looked around, noticing the island which had a large statue of Avatar Kyoshi on it. I sighed in relief. Somehow, I had arrived.


	4. Sand and Emptiness

A few hours had passed since (y/n)’s arrival at Kyoshi Island, and though nothing of substance had happened, she was glad to have some peace and quiet at last. She stayed at the beach, hiding in the trees nearby – she shuddered at the thought of what the people here would do to her upon seeing her Fire Nation clothes. She was hoping to bump into Aang when he was alone, as he would understand her situation better than anyone else. Maybe Roku had managed to contact him? She certainly hoped so. And hey, at least she’d get to meet another Air Nomad!

She sighed, shifting her eyes that had been staring intently at the beach for the past couple minutes onto the ocean. An elephant koi jumped out, the water droplets almost reaching (y/n)’s hiding place. It was followed by another fish, and then another, and then everything went quiet and nothing remained but the ripples that slowly disappeared as they spread out further and further across the water. (y/n) looked back at the beach. Still, nothing had changed. The island would have been a nice place to live, (y/n) thought, a peaceful place, removed from the conflict happening everywhere around it. She would have a nice house overlooking the ocean, a little garden where she grew vegetables, maybe she’d have some proper friends for once… Just as she was slipping into her third daydream of the afternoon, the silence was broken by the rustle of footsteps on twigs, and a boy with Air Nomad tattoos emerged, followed closely by a group of little girls. Though (y/n) had been expecting this for the past few hours, she still gasped in a mixture of shock and relief. The Avatar was here.

She watched him change into his trunks before climbing into the water and swimming out a few meters from the shore. From the excited cries of Aang and his troop of fangirls, (y/n) gathered he'd promised them to ride.... Unagi? She had no idea what that meant. Regardless, whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t showing up.

“What’s taking so long?” huffed one of the girls tailing Aang.

“I’m sure it will be here any second!” he replied. Seeing the faces of his entourage growing increasingly bored with every second, he took out what (y/n) assumed were some marbles.

“What about this?” he said, marbles spinning around between his hands as he smiled awkwardly at the girls.

(y/n) raised an eyebrow. Surely the Avatar was capable of more advanced airbending than that? And what was he doing messing around like this anyway, what with a war going on? He _was_ just a kid, but still… it didn’t sit well with her. He needed to learn to not let the fame get to his head.

The lesson came sooner than (y/n) expected.

“Not that again. Boring!” exclaimed a girl. She stood up, the others following suit.

“Where’s the Unagi? It’s getting late.”

“Where are you going? Don’t leave!”, pleaded Aang, but it was no use.

“Sorry Aang! Maybe next time.”

The girls walked away, leaving Aang alone. Finally, thought (y/n). This was her chance.

“Aang!” she called. “Aang, get over here!”

He popped out of the water, surprised that there were still people around. The voice didn’t sound familiar either, and way too old to be another fangirl, so who was this?

“Who’s there?”

Not daring to come out of the trees, (y/n) responded: “I’ll explain, just please, come quickly.” She paused. Would Aang even trust this strange person telling him where to go? It had been a hundred years, but stranger danger was still a thing, right? She had to give herself some credibility. “Aang, Roku spoke to me. You’re the Avatar and were frozen for a hundred years, and only recently were you found by Southern Water Tribe members. That’s what Roku told me. He said I have to help you. Please, trust me.”

Aang perked up at the mention of Roku. If this strange person knew him, then she was probably a friend. He waded out onto the shore, dried himself off and got dressed, then walked over to where the voice was coming from.

“Okay, I’m here. You can come out now.”

(y/n) emerged from the trees and stood in front of him, finally allowing herself to be seen. His eyes widened a little at seeing the Fire Nation clothes, but he said nothing about it.

“So… who exactly are you?” he asked.

(y/n) thought for a few seconds before answering.

“My name is (y/n), and I only just escaped the Fire Nation. I spoke to Roku and he told me I needed to travel with you, and help you on your quest to defeat Ozai. Everything else is a long story.”

“Well,” said Aang, “I have enough time to hear you out. Let’s just get out onto the beach.”

(y/n) didn’t respond, and just looked pointedly at her clothes.

“Oh, right… Well, wait here and I’ll bring you something to wear.”

A few minutes later, (y/n) stood on the beach, dressed in the blue robes of the Kyoshi Island residents.

“Thanks, Aang!” she smiled. “It feels so good to wearing something new and clean again.”

“No problem! So, what about that long story?”

“Well,” she started, “I’m not exactly sure where to begin… I don’t remember anything from my childhood. One day, I just woke up in a dark room, and it turned out I’d been –”

Before she could say anymore, a girl ran onto the beach.

“Aang! Where are you?” she shouted worriedly.

“Katara! You came!” exclaimed Aang, waving at her to come over.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, you really had me worried!”

“Back there you acted like you didn’t care.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Me too. I did let all that attention go to my head. I was being a jerk.”

Katara giggled.

“Well, I hope you didn’t catch a cold out there in the water, you big jerk!”

Aang grinned at her, and as she smiled back, glad that the conflict was over, she finally noticed (y/n), who’d retreated slightly back to her hiding place since Katara's arrival.

“Who’s this?” Katara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh! Katara, meet (y/n). (y/n), meet Katara.” Turning to Katara, Aang elaborated: “She wants to travel with us and help me to defeat the Fire Lord. She’s on the run from the Fire Nation.”

“Right,” said Katara, “Well, (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

From her tone, (y/n) could sense that Katara didn’t trust her, or maybe was just embarrassed at having her private conversation with Aang overheard by a stranger. Whatever the case, she seemed nice enough, and (y/n) was sure the two would make friends once they properly got to know each other.

“Nice to meet you too,” she smiled.

The conversation lasted for another few minutes before the trio began the walk back to the house where they’d spend the night. The sun was already on its way down, and a quiet breeze swayed the grass. In the water, a ship was on its way towards Kyoshi Island, picking up speed with every second as it approached the golden shore. Katara spotted it first, and immediately, from the familiar shape and the red flag fluttering above it, she knew what was going on.

“Zuko!” she exclaimed. “We need to hide. Now!”

* * *

Peeking out from behind the rocks Katara had brought her to, (y/n) tried to figure out the reason for her new friends' anxiety. She'd practically been dragged to the nearest hiding place with such force that her arm was left red and sore under her sleeve, and, now that she was settled behind a boulder, she looked at the beach for an explanation, because, aside from the looks of fear and alarm on their faces, it didn’t look like Aang and Katara were going to give her one.

It didn’t take long for her to notice it – the ship came into the shore, powerful and imposing and unmistakably from the Fire Nation. She gasped – had they really found her so soon?

The prow was let down and a boy about the same age as her – maybe a little older – rode out of the hull on a rhinoceros, followed by several other men. (y/n) stared at him in disbelief. Was this the ‘Zuko’ Katara had mentioned? The soldiers and the ferocious animals definitely worried her, but, despite the dread slowly beginning to build up in (y/n)’s stomach, she couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. Were Aang and Katara really afraid of a _teenager_? Still, she had to admit, he had a certain authority about him, after all, he was in charge of all these men, and if he'd managed to strike fear into the Avatar… he was probably a force to be reckoned with. He wasn’t _quite_ Azula-level threatening, (y/n) decided, but she should try to avoid him nonetheless. _Especially_ , she thought, if he insisted on riding that war rhinoceros.

“I want the Avatar alive!”

His voice rang out amongst the clutter of animals and armour, filling (y/n) with a feeling of short-lived relief. Good, she thought, he's not looking for me. And then, he marched towards the town, his soldiers following close behind him, and the beach was empty once again, finally giving the trio in the cave an opportunity to speak.

“Guys,” whispered (y/n). “Who was that?”

“That’s Zuko,” hissed Katara, “He's after Aang, and I guess now he’s following us. He tried to attack us a few days ago at the South Pole, but didn’t succeed.”

“I have to fight him,” said Aang, “I can’t let him hurt the people of this island.”

“I’ll come too,” said Katara.

(y/n) looked up.

“And me.”

With that, the explanations were over, and the trio clambered out of the cave and ran in the direction of the town.

The roads were almost empty, growing ever more deserted as Aang, Katara and (y/n) got closer to the main street. The smell of burning wood filled their lungs, air thick with smoke and tension, growing warmer by the second as more and more houses erupted into flames. Grunts, screams, crashes of rhino feet running into battle, harsh commands and children’s tears echoed through the village. Turning a corner, the trio could now see fully what was going on.

Zuko was, to their relief, rhino-less and without his helmet – (y/n) stifled a giggle at the terrible choice of hairstyle – though that didn’t hinder him as much as (y/n) would have liked. Two Kyoshi warriors lay injured on the ground next to him, and one was in the process of being slammed against a wooden pole. She collapsed in pain on the ground, joining her friends in defeat. Satisfied, Zuko jumped over to the middle of the street, eyes narrowed and scanning the area for anyone else who dared take him on. Nobody. The street lay empty and silent before him, lit up by the setting sun and the houses crumbling to ashes in the distance. Zuko scowled. He had frightened the villagers into their homes, defeated the Kyoshi Warriors, destroyed the island, but that wasn't enough. He wanted – no, more than that – he _needed_ the Avatar.

“Nice try, Avatar!” he yelled, “But these little girls can’t save you.”

Aang gripped his staff, still stood behind the house with (y/n) and Katara.

“I’m going,” he whispered.

“Wait, Aang!” said Katara. “I’m coming too.”

“No, Katara. I beat him by myself last time, and I can do it again.” He paused. “You and (y/n) should make sure that everyone in the village is safe.”

“Are you sure?” asked (y/n) worriedly.

“Positive.”

Aang ran out onto the street, and, as Zuko noticed his presence and moved to attack, Katara tore her eyes away from her friend and turned to face (y/n).

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Aang will be fine. We should check on the villagers for now, like he said.”

Her voice was confident, but (y/n) could tell that, deep down, she was just as worried. Nevertheless, Aang had a point – it was, after all, of utmost importance that nobody was caught in the crossfire between the Avatar and the Fire Nation. And so, the pair set off, the roads filled with dust and debris and destroyed lives, stretching out into the horizon in front of them.

A few minutes later, (y/n) and Katara were headed towards the other side of the village, two little girls walking beside them. They were the same girls from the beach, (y/n) remembered – thank goodness they left when they did. Though, she thought, looking at the wreckage of the town, this scenario wasn’t much better.

There were only a few buildings left standing now – the flames had swept through the town like a hurricane, sparks jumping from one house to the next until entire streets burned bright like a festival lantern – and all (y/n) could do was hope the girls' houses had survived. With more and more corners turned, her eyes were met with destruction, and, once again, her own memories flashed before her eyes: Tomin, Mayako, her entire race. Peaceful people, all destroyed by the Fire Nation, and now they had come for this village too. The fire in their hands, and in their hearts, fueled by the blood of the innocent.

Maybe it was that thought, or perhaps it was just the smoke, that was the reason (y/n)’s eyes began to water, until she could barely see where she was going. But no, she thought, she couldn’t afford to get emotional now. Her duty was to help these children get home. She wiped her eyes, and led the children around another corner. The last one.

As soon as (y/n) and Katara stepped out onto the road, a Fire Nation soldier rode out of the smoke in front of them, blocking their way. Menacing scowl lit up by the yellowish light of the late afternoon, he towered above the group from atop his rhino, grunting and growling as if he was one with his giant mount. Katara reacted immediately, pushing the two little girls behind her, shielding them with her body.

“Run!” she yelled, “We'll hold him off!”

The girls disappeared behind a house as a fireball flew at Katara's face. She dodged, countering the attack with a stream of water. It hit the soldier straight on, throwing him back a little, but no serious damage was done, and he moved his arms to attack once again. The next fireball came at (y/n), and all she could do was jump aside. She couldn’t attack the man, not in front of Katara. Not yet. Meanwhile, Katara was preparing another attack, in between dodging the kicks of the rhino, but her water supplies were dwindling fast, evaporating in the heat. Water whip coming out weaker than she’d hoped, she grimaced as her attack left only a small red line across the soldier’s face. He looked at the pair and now, fire shot out of both his hands – he charged at them, (y/n) and Katara only just managing to jump out of the way in time. As his rhino turned around, (y/n) wondered how much longer this would go on for. Were the girls back home yet? Was there even a home for them to go back to? But, she couldn’t get lost in thought, not now, because the rhino had turned around and was running straight at them, and, once again, she had to jump aside to avoid it. Katara jumped as well, landing next to (y/n), but she didn’t jump quickly enough. As the beast passed her, massive feet denting the soft village road, the soldier aimed from above, and fire shot at Katara. Inertia from the jump still carrying her sideways towards (y/n), she didn’t, couldn’t, react in time. The fire came closer and closer towards her – centimeters, then millimeters, away from her face. And then, (y/n) was unable to look on in passive peace any longer. She couldn’t let this happen. Not to her friend. Not like this. Her hands moved on their own into the tiny gap between Katara’s face and the fire. For a brief moment, time stopped. Katara stared at the hand in front of her in shock. The soldier’s eyes widened. Even (y/n) herself was only now realising what she’d done. Then, before she knew it, time had started again and the soldier’s attack was hurtling away from Katara, and Katara was stumbling back from the rhino, and a burst of fire was flying straight at the soldier’s chest. The next moment, he fell with a loud crash to the ground. It was over.

“Yay!”

The cheer came from a short distance up the road. The smoke had cleared up and the street looked mostly unharmed, letting (y/n) see the two girls coming out from behind a house. Katara immediately ran over to them, and (y/n) followed.

“We saw it all!” one of them giggled. “You two really kicked that soldier's butt!”

“Hey,” laughed Katara, “Language!” Her face suddenly took on a more serious expression. “Why didn’t you run to safety? It’s dangerous for you out here, you could have got yourselves hurt.”

“Sorry…” the girls mumbled.

“Let’s get you two home then,” said (y/n) with a smile. She looked at Katara as if to confirm that that was still the plan, and as she did, her face fell. Katara didn’t smile back. Instead, she stared at (y/n) with a mixture of suspicion, disbelief, and anger. She stepped out in front of the children, blocking them from (y/n), and spoke.

“You really think I’d let them anywhere near you? After what you pulled there?”

(y/n) looked down. She knew it had been a bad idea to reveal so much so soon. She'd jumped in without properly thinking things through and now Katara knew and she hated her. Regret welled up in her chest, and though, logically, she knew she’d had no choice back there and she hadn’t done anything wrong and so she had no reason to feel bad, the heavy heat of guilt and shame flowed through her body like molten lead.

“I – I was just trying to help – ” started (y/n), trying to convince herself more than Katara, but was promptly interrupted.

“Your excuses won’t work for me. You weren’t trying to help anyone, in fact, you’re probably spying on us for the Fire Nation! I was right not to trust you.”

“I – ”

“I said, stop. I don’t want to hear any more from you.”

As she led the children away to their homes further up the street, she turned to (y/n) for the last time.

“Goodbye. And don’t even _try_ to follow us.”

(y/n) stood there, frozen in place as she watched Katara and the children walk away, and tears began to form in her eyes. She wanted to be angry at Katara, wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but sadness and regret and guilt. She couldn’t blame Katara for doubting her, after all – they'd known each other for less than an hour. And, if Zuko was after Aang, then it was entirely reasonable of her to assume that spies were involved. She was just trying to protect her friends, thought (y/n), and the tears began to stream down her face. Friends. She'd been so close to finally having some, for once. And now it was all gone, all taken away, because the Fire Nation had to show up – specifically this Zuko with his stupid ponytail – and ruin everything. And, just like that, the sadness was lifted from (y/n)’s mind, and the void was once again filled with anger. It was easier this way – so much easier to just be angry at someone, anyone, to hate their guts and to insult them and to plot revenge against them, someone to blame for all her problems. Anger was an easy emotion for (y/n), one that filled her with drive and determination, at least, and made her heart race. And, as much as it ate away at her, wore her away bit by bit like stormy waves wear away at a rock until there is nothing left but sand and emptiness, it was better than confronting reality. Anything was better than that, any distractions at all. Because, as soon as she was forced to properly come to terms with what happened, to accept the hopelessness and the pain and the loss, she would collapse.

(y/n), lost in thought and emotion, didn’t notice as the fallen soldier began to stir. She didn’t notice as he snuck up behind her and took out a pair of handcuffs. Only when they clicked shut on her wrists did she finally sense that something was wrong, and when she turned around, she realised she was trapped and retaliation was futile.

The soldier led her away from the burning streets of the village, onto the ship and into a prison cell, and she did not resist.


	5. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you've read this far (congrat) I imagine more edge won't deter you, but even so, I feel compelled to inform you that these next few ship chapters are v edgy.

The interrogation started about half an hour after I’d been brought in. The soldier sent down to my cell wasted no time and got right down to business, throwing question after question at me. I sat on my bed, silent.

It’s not that I was, as the soldier phrased it “refusing to cooperate”. I genuinely didn’t know the answers. He asked me dozens of questions about the Avatar – his goals, his friends, where he was headed, and I couldn’t answer a single one of them, since I’d been captured before I’d found out anything about Aang. But that didn’t matter. It’s not like I would have told _them_ anything anyway.

After a while, the soldier left and was replaced by Zuko himself. He wasted no time either.

“Where is the Avatar?” he shouted immediately upon opening the door, and then, not stopping even for a moment, he continued to walk straight towards me, the dim light of the room illuminating his threatening glare. “Well? Answer me!”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Of course you do. I saw you collaborating with his friend! Your lies might have worked on the Lieutenant, but you can’t fool me.”

“I was trying to get some children to safety, and so was she. There was no other collaboration of any sort,” I said, trying to remain as calm as possible, and finding it increasingly hard to do so.

“Of course there was. You really expect me to believe you?”

I didn’t answer.

Zuko sighed angrily, then, deciding to change tactics, started again.

“Look,” he said, “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. If you just confess and tell me everything you know, I’ll let you go as soon as we reach the shore. Provided that your information is correct, of course. Alternatively...” he paused. “Alternatively, you don’t confess, in which case you stay on this ship for as long as it takes us to capture the Avatar. And I assure you of one thing.” A flame appeared on his hand. “Your stay with us will not be pleasant.”

I groaned. He really didn’t get it, did he? It was getting increasingly hard to keep up this emotionless facade.

“I said I don’t. Know. Anything.”

He scowled, and for a moment, the fire in his hand grew bigger. Evidently, he wasn’t finding the whole staying calm thing any easier than I was. He turned and began to walk back towards the door.

“If you insist on making things hard for both of us, so be it. I give you until tomorrow morning to reconsider your decision.”

With that, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

I leaned back against the wall and sighed. Wasn’t this just great? I was stuck on a ship with a bunch of soldiers, as well as an emotionally unstable teenager who was somehow in charge. My only way off was either an escape – impossible, with all the people around – or providing knowledge that I didn’t have.

I thought back to Zuko's earlier threat and snorted. Making my imprisonment here any more unpleasant than it already was? That had to be impossible. It wasn’t so much the room that was the problem – they could lock me up in a cupboard, for all I cared. It was the fact that, only a day after finally having freedom from the Fire Nation, I was right back in its clutches. They’d taken away my people – thousands of innocent human lives ended for their evil aims, and then, as if that wasn’t enough, they’d taken away my parents. Still not stopping, they took away any last chances I had at friendship, and then they came for me. They’d taken everything I had, even taken the very possibility of having something at all. And now, when the news about the fight with Azula would inevitably reach them, I’d suffer the same fate as my parents. I threw myself backwards onto the bed, the hard mattress hitting my back like a brick wall, knocking the air out of my lungs, but I didn’t care. Emotional pain blocking out the physical, my fist collided with the wall next to me, leaving a small residue that trickled slowly down onto the floor. I brought my hand back to my body and stared at the dark stain that grew on the dirty sheets. They had once been white, age had turned them yellow, and now, my blood had turned them red.

After a few seconds, my bleeding hand brought me to my senses and I sat up, staring at it in shock. I’d never done anything like that before. Now, my hand hurt, and so did my head, and I didn’t feel any better. The blood had stained my clothes as well – I remembered the feeling of the fresh blue robes that Aang had given me only a couple hours ago with longing and regret. Why did I have to do that? Letting out a frustrated sigh, I got up and walked towards the bathroom to wash my hands, and when I returned, I found that the door was open and a third person was sitting on the floor next to my bed, waiting for me.

“This again!” I exclaimed. After all that happened today, I couldn’t find it in myself to stay calm any longer. “I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, and I’ll say it again: I don’t! Know! Anything! What more do you monsters want from me!?”

The angry reply that I expected never came. Instead, the soft, patient voice of an old man responded.

“I don’t want anything... I just came in to offer you a nice cup of relaxing jasmine tea.”

Tea? I couldn’t remember the last time I had something nice to drink. But no, this had to be a trap. Who would offer tea to a prisoner? Especially if the captors were from the Fire Nation.

“Keep your stupid tea. If you’re trying to get me to talk by being nice to me, it won’t work!”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” said the man. “I know my nephew must have asked you enough questions by now.”

I didn’t respond. Surprisingly, the man seemed nice, but even so, I couldn’t risk trusting him.

“If Prince Zuko said anything that upset you, I apologise on his behalf.”

“Wait – _prince_?” As much as I didn’t want to talk to the man, this was news too important to ignore.

“Yes... My nephew Zuko is Prince of the Fire Nation. Though, his current situation is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So I’ve been captured by someone _that_ important, huh.” I said, not knowing if that fact should make me feel better or worse.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, before the man spoke again.

“Are you sure you don’t want the tea? I haven’t done anything to it and I promise it’s completely safe to drink. I can prove it if you want,” he said, pouring a bit of the tea from my cup into his own.

He took a sip, and, given that he looked completely fine, I decided that, in any case, I was thirsty and had nothing left to lose. Reaching towards my cup, I saw for a second how his eyes lingered on my grazed knuckles, then swiftly looked away upon seeing me notice. I grabbed the cup and quickly brought it to my lips, then switched the hand holding onto it so he wouldn’t see any more. I closed my eyes as I drank, avoiding the man’s gaze that I could now sense on my face. When I finished the tea and put my cup down, I stared at the floor, still avoiding eye contact, though I knew I couldn’t hide forever.

Eventually, the man spoke in a soft, quiet voice. “Did you like the tea?”

“Yes...” I mumbled. “I suppose I did.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. After the kind of day you’ve had, a cup of calming jasmine tea is absolutely essential for your mental wellbeing.”

I sighed. “I think with all that’s happening in my life right now, it’s going to take a lot more than tea to sort things out...”

“I understand. But you shouldn’t give up hope.” He paused. “Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving, you will come to a better place."

“I’m not sure I will... It feels less like a tunnel and more like a dead end.”

“It might feel that way right now, but believe me, it will pass. Though you may feel trapped, there are always choices you can make to shape your destiny.”

“What choices do I have on this boat, though? I’m in a prison cell... This isn’t just a spiritual thing – I’m _literally_ trapped! Argh, why am I telling you all this anyway?” I suddenly realised just how much I’d shared with this stranger, and who knew what insidious ways the Fire Nation would find to use my feelings against me. “Who are you anyway, what do you want from me?”

He looked at me, eyes filled with sympathy, and answered.

“My name is Iroh. I am the uncle of Prince Zuko, and we are on this ship to capture the Avatar. It’s not something I want to do, but... my nephew needs it. I have to be there for him. I have to help him find his own destiny.”

The sad sincerity in his voice once again caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Maybe it was alright to trust him? The thought crept into my mind, and I immediately pushed it away. No. It was too dangerous. I couldn’t afford to say any more. But then – the way he looked at me, the compassion and the understanding – there could be no doubt in my mind that it was genuine. The tea he'd offered me, that hadn’t been a trap, and what he was saying to me now... That didn’t sound like psychological manipulation, not like something Azula would say. It sounded comforting. Like he was concerned, like he cared about my wellbeing. No – it was too soon – my instincts screamed at me – he didn’t even know me. But then, I looked at him again, really looked into his eyes, and, as much as I couldn’t rationally believe it, the only emotions I saw reflected in them were kindness and warmth. And with that final look, I made up my mind to trust him. This situation was already so horrible, and couldn’t possibly get any worse. I had nothing left anymore, so what did I have to lose?

“Alright. My name is (y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled, and spoke once more.

“I see there’s a lot on your mind… Problems are like tea. When you share them with someone else, you have half as much as when you started.”

“I guess…” I replied.

“So then… what’s troubling you?”

“I just… feel a bit hopeless, I suppose,” I began. “There’s been… a lot going on for me lately. I mean, I’m here on this ship right now instead of helping the Avatar. But really, that’s not the worst of it, by far.”

I looked at Iroh once again, wondering if I’d said too much. But he remained next to me, peaceful as ever, his gaze reassuring me without the need for words that I was welcome to talk to my heart’s content.

“I don’t remember the first twelve years of my life. So that complicates things already. And recently, the two people I cared about the most… passed away.” I didn’t mention the details. I didn’t want to relive that memory yet again. “I’m basically homeless too, as of last week, though I suppose that problem is solved, at least.” I smiled sadly, looking around the cell. There was really almost nothing there. A door to the bathroom, a bed, and a small window above me with bars on it. I continued: “This isn’t much of a home, though.”

I leaned back against the wall and stared upwards into the ceiling. Iroh sat there, not moving or speaking, waiting for me to finish.

“It’s just… It’s all happening at once. I’m lost and don’t really know what to do… I had a purpose for once, you know. Just earlier today, I felt like my life had regained some meaning again. I even almost made a friend…” My eyes began to water at the memory of Katara’s rejection. “I just.. I just feel so alone, like nobody cares anymore and it's not like most people ever did but…”

I couldn’t keep going. I covered my face with my hands.

“I’ll be back,” whispered Iroh, then got up and the door shut softly behind him. After a few minutes, he returned, and the cell filled with the soothing scent of jasmine. I took the cup and drank from it gratefully, wiping the tears from my face. The tea calmed me down enough to continue, so I went on.

“I feel like I’ve always been alone. Except for my parents, there was nobody else in the world who understood what I was going through. At school, I was taught to hate my own people… and then, they made me stand up and say they deserved to die and their lives were worthless… _my_ life was worthless… But then at least I had my parents… not my biological parents but that didn’t matter to us. My mum taught me things I didn’t remember about myself, she had books, lots of them… but then the police found out and I… I’m sorry, I can’t say any more.”

I sat in silence for another few minutes, trying to calm down with the remainders of the tea. I glanced at Iroh, again checking that I hadn’t said too much, but the same compassionate expression remained on his face. I finished the tea, but held onto the cup, twiddling it around in my hands to help me calm down.

“It’s always difficult to be alone.” He finally spoke, and his voice was soothing, just like the tea he sipped in-between his sentences. “But know this, (y/n), you’re never really alone. There’s people out there who understand what you’re going through.”

I sighed. “I guess there must be... I met someone who could understand, earlier today, in fact.” My thoughts drifted to Aang. Was he okay? Evidently, he hadn’t been captured, much to my relief, but was everything really alright? It must be, I reassured myself. Katara was a loyal friend, and he was in good hands. Going back to my conversation with Iroh, I went on.

“There was someone who could understand, but now I lost him. And I doubt there’s anyone else who could understand me to the same degree, especially on this ship.” I paused, trying to find the right words. “A lot of people would understand what the loss of a loved one feels like. But then, feeling completely alone and rejected by everyone? I doubt that. This ship is filled with people from the Fire Nation. There’s a certain sense of camaraderie between people here.” A burst of anger surfaced within me, for a moment pushing the other emotions aside. “You’ve seen it. All the crowds and the fancy processions and the people merging into one as they idolize and fawn over that monster. Their little Ozai cult.”

“Yes, they do tend to go a bit overboard…”

“Yeah right, ‘a bit'. The people basically pray to him! I mean, the oath we had to recite in school every day – ‘with my hands I fight for Fire Lord Ozai’, he's even mentioned by name! Not just the country, not just the vague notion of the Fire Lord, it’s him specifically!” As fast as it had appeared, the anger was gone, and I looked down at the floor and carried on.

“It’s like – everyone else here at least feels like they belong to their country… but I just feel so alone. And on top of that, I’m basically…”

Now came the hard part. I had to be discreet about this – as trustworthy as Iroh seemed, I couldn’t tell him absolutely everything. The things Roku had told me – there was no way I was repeating any of that on this ship. I would have to choose my words carefully.

“Another thing is – there’s certain... advantages I received, under the assumption that I would use them to help the Avatar restore balance to the world. But I spent less than an hour with him before being captured. There was just _one_ thing expected from me and I couldn’t achieve it and I just… I was so close but… Almost there but then…” Katara's eyes flashed in my mind. The anger, the distrust, the _fear_ as she looked at me, stepping in front of the girls. She stepped in front of them, I realised, suddenly horrified at the thought. _She thought I was going to hurt them…_ “I’m such a failure!”

I slammed the cup down onto the floor, shattering it with the force. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I suddenly regretted saying this much. Iroh probably didn’t even care, and even if he did, why did I have to open up like that? I could have just kept my mouth shut, drank my tea and left it there. But no, I had to revisit that night yet again, all the anger and the pain and the loneliness, and now I was thinking about it all and the memories wouldn’t leave my head for the whole night and now my mind was flooded with thoughts and my eyes were flooded with tears. I covered my face with my hands and turned to face the wall. I was so, so stupid.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” I finally managed to choke out.

“(y/n)…” he said, “It’s okay. Don’t ever say you’re a failure. You’ve made it through many hardships in your life, and you will get through this too. You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength. You can get through this, (y/n). I know you can.”

With that, our conversation was over. I heard the scuffle of his clothes as he got up, scooping the porcelain fragments of the cup into his hand, and, as he was leaving the room he added: “But please remember (y/n), you are not as alone as you think you are. In fact, I know someone with very similar problems to what you mentioned.”

He gently closed the door, and, immediately, I crashed onto the floor, breaking into full out sobs, releasing it all in a stream of tears. I was tired, again, and hungry, and my head hurt, and I needed the bathroom, but my body wouldn’t move. My eyes hurt and my face was red and my clothes were wet and uncomfortable, but still I kept crying. Only when the door opened and a plate was slid into the room did I break out of my trance, and then I ate solemnly and then stood for a few minutes, or a few hours – I couldn’t tell – staring out of the window. The sky was light now, painted with the faint glow of the early morning, and I fell asleep looking at it, lying on the cold, hard stone of the cell, my face illuminated by the soft rays of the rising sun. Only when I woke up did I calm down – judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was already noon. My body ached all over from the night on the floor, but in my soul, I finally felt a small inkling of peace.


	6. Conversations with Iroh - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> needed a timeskip chapter.

Over the next week, Iroh visited me every day. I guess he must have talked some sense into Zuko, because no other soldiers came in to interrogate me, and thanks to him, since the first night on the ship, my room had basically transformed. There was now a small table, a chair, a carpet, and some books, as well as candles for better lighting. I still wished I was helping Aang instead of being stuck here, but at least now I had something to do and someone to talk to, and anything was better than being left completely alone with my thoughts. I read in the mornings and the afternoons, and in the evenings, Iroh would come in and we'd talk over a cup of tea. This evening was no different.

** DAY 7 OF IMPRISONMENT **

“You know, I really worry about my nephew,” he said, coming into my room shortly after dinner. He put down his cup on the table, sat down and, turning to face me, he continued: “I feel like in his quest to capture the Avatar, he’s losing himself.”

I sighed. We really had to talk about _him_ , huh?

“The Zuko you saw on your first day here… that’s not what he's really like. He’s angry because he’s hurt.”

“Right.”

“If he upset you in your interrogation, please forgive him.”

I didn’t respond.

“I promise he didn’t mean any of it… What did he say?”

I thought about it for a few seconds. “It’s not really what he _said_. He didn’t say anything that horrible. It’s just – he wants to capture the last hope the world has left! And for what? So the Fire Lord can destroy the world for good?”

“I don’t think that’s what he really wants… I think he's just confused.”

“Well, clearly he's made up his mind enough about things to burn down an entire village!”

Iroh bowed his head, and, suddenly, I felt bad for my words.

“Look, maybe you’re right. Maybe his personal situation does sort of explain his actions. I just… I haven’t talked to him a lot, you know? I’ve only ever seen him be angry for five minutes, and that didn’t exactly leave me with the best impression.”

“He’s not angry because he’s mean.” He paused. “Anger is never its own emotion. It is only a distraction we use to avoid facing feelings that are much harder to deal with.”

“I guess…”

For the rest of the conversation that evening, and the whole night after, that phrase stayed with me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it hit too close to home.

** DAY 11 OF IMPRISONMENT **

“Hi!”

Today, I greeted Iroh with a smile. It was one of the rare days that I was in a good mood, which may or may not have been caused by the extra helping of fire flakes that came with my lunch a few hours earlier.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, (y/n),” he smiled back at me. “I have some good news for you!”

“Oh?”

“It appears the Avatar and his friends have liberated a prison ship of earthbenders!”

“Wow, that’s wonderful!” I exclaimed.

“Yes… Thankfully, we reached the ship after they’d already left, so there was no fighting either.”

“That’s great news, Iroh! Thanks so much for telling me! Though…” I sighed, “I wish I could have been there with them.”

“Don’t worry,” said Iroh, “I’m sure the time will soon come when you will be reunited.”

I sat there, drinking my tea, hoping that he was right.

** DAY 14 OF IMPRISONMENT **

Today, it was Iroh's turn to be happy. He practically skipped into the room, tea splashing about in the cups, but somehow never spilling over the edge.

“What happened?” I asked, curious at this sudden diversion from the calm, thoughtful man I’d gotten to know over the past two weeks.

“It’s Zuko! I think he’s finally beginning to open his eyes!”

“Hmmm?”

More out of respect for Iroh than anything else, I listened.

“This afternoon, I was captured by some people from the Earth Kingdom. I wasn’t actually in any danger, or so I thought at first. But I should never have underestimated my opponent.”

“What did they want you for, anyway?”

“Back when I was a General, I did certain things that I am now deeply ashamed of.”

Whatever it was, he had clearly changed for the better. Deciding not to pry any further, I asked: “So what about Zuko?”

“Ah yes.” He took a sip of his tea and continued. “I managed to break free of their chains, but that was not enough. The earthbenders had me surrounded. I was almost captured again when Zuko rescued me.” He took another sip. “I suppose one could say that, today, he broke free of his own chains.”

“What do you mean?”

“My nephew feels like he needs to capture the Avatar. He ties his success or failure in that task to his honor, which is a thing he values deeply. But today, instead of following the Avatar, he chose to help me. In doing that, he broke free of the chains of the destiny somebody else had decided for him.”

“Oh… I guess that makes sense. But then…how do you know he even had a choice to make? Was Aang nearby?”

“I believe so,” said Iroh. “I saw him as I was being taken to the Earth Kingdom. Although, it was only his spirit, but–”

“Wait, you can see spirits? That’s amazing!”

“I can’t see all of them. But I can feel powerful spiritual presences.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!”

“Thank you,” he chuckled. “The Avatar's spirit was riding a dragon, by the way.”

“A dragon?”

I smiled. That had to mean Roku finally contacted Aang, or was about to, in any case.

“Yes, a dragon… I was surprised too! But,” his face suddenly became more serious, “though Zuko couldn’t see the spirit, he knew the Avatar was nearby as well as I did. And, despite that, he chose to help me… Today, he made a step towards shaping his own destiny."

“I guess you’re right,” I said, and, though I knew Iroh wasn’t exactly impartial what with them being family and all, I found myself wanting to believe him. After all, I reasoned, the sooner Zuko found himself again, as Iroh put it, the sooner I’d be off this ship for good. And, right now, getting off the ship was my main priority.


	7. Conversations with Iroh - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise smth happens this time

The next few days were certainly eventful. I’d thought that, despite being unpleasant in every single other way, the ship would at least be somewhat safe for me, but, as it turned out, even that was too much to ask.

** DAY 20 OF IMPRISONMENT **

A loud crash burst through the silence of my cell, and I sprung from my bed in shock. What on earth was that? Looking through the window, all I could see were the usual blue shades of sea and sky, and, for a moment, the silence settled back down over the ocean, until there was another crash, and then another, and then another. Suddenly, the floor moved beneath me as the ship lurched to the side at the latest crash, and I fell. We were being attacked, I realised, but by who?

I got my answer later in the evening, when Iroh came in for tea.

“Today, the Avatar entered Fire Nation territory,” he explained. “He needed to speak to the spirit of Avatar Roku in time for the Solstice. I warned Zuko not to follow him, but he did anyway. We were attacked by Commander Zhao…”

“But did Aang manage to speak to Roku?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s great!” I said, relief evident in my voice. “Although…” I paused, suddenly worried, “Who is this Zhao, anyway?”

“He’s a Commander in the Fire Nation Navy… Shortly before we came to Kyoshi Island, we met with him. From questioning our crew, he found out that the Avatar is still alive. He’s been trying to capture him ever since.”

I frowned. Now Aang had _two_ crazy Fire Nation murderers after him. “Is he… a big threat?”

“I’m afraid so. He has a whole fleet, and is determined to capture the Avatar no matter what.” He sighed. “His attacks damaged the ship heavily. We’ll have to get repairs as soon as possible.”

“I hope we don’t come across him again any time soon,” I said.

“Me too. But something tells me this isn’t over yet.”

He left soon after, and I went to sleep, worried about this new threat to the safety of the ship, the Avatar, and the whole world itself.

** DAY 25 OF IMPRISONMENT **

Only a few days later, the ship was attacked yet again.

“My nephew made a deal with pirates,” Iroh told me after it happened. “He tried to double-cross them… A fight broke out. He was so busy fighting he could not see his own ship had set sail. We only recovered it after it went down a waterfall.”

I sat there on my bed, amongst the mess that my room had turned into after the unfortunate fate of the ship, and listened. He told me more details about how the plan came to be: how he’d diverted the ship to buy a lotus tile for Pai Sho, how they’d spent hours in a town and couldn’t find it, how Aang and his friends managed to get away. Then, suddenly, just as I thought he was about to leave, he reached into his robe and pulled out a scroll.

“I thought you needed to take a look at this.”

His voice was quiet and serious, and, as I nervously reached out and took the scroll, a knot of dread once again reappeared in my stomach. Every muscle in my body stiffened as I unrolled it, and, before I even read the words, I knew what it was. I knew it was coming from the first moment I stepped foot on this ship, earlier that that, even – I knew it on Kyoshi Island and I knew it when I was escaping the Fire Nation. But it was one thing to imagine it, and another thing completely to witness it in reality. I stared at the poster, and, from the wrinkled, yellow paper, my own face stared back. _Wanted_ _dead or alive,_ it said, _for the attempted murder of Princess Azula of the Fire Nation._

“(y/n), is this true?”

Iroh's voice broke me out of my shocked trance, and, slowly, I looked up at him. I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, I hadn’t been in control of my body when I knocked her out, and Roku had most certainly intended to keep her alive. But, on the other hand… I thought back to how I’d gotten into that situation in the first place, and her words echoed through my mind.

“It’s a shame two such respected individuals turned out to be disgusting traitors.”

Her face flashed before me. That smile. That infuriatingly sadistic smile.

“It is my duty to make sure all traitors to our fatherland are punished with utmost severity.”

The tone of her voice, dripping with cold, calculated malice.

“After seeing those books your parents kept in the basement, I had no choice but to take action.”

Her eyes. Her words. The way she ignored my attacks at first, stepping aside and smirking at my pain. I remembered it as if it was happening right now, and before I knew it, the poster was reduced to ashes in front of me. The same thought that overcame me that night returned, taking over my mind once more. I looked Iroh straight in the eye and nodded. _I wanted her dead_.

I expected him to be mad. Even if guards rushed into the room right then and I was killed on the spot, I wouldn’t have been surprised. But instead, he stayed quiet and drank his tea, calm and understanding as ever. For a few moments, neither of us spoke. Then, being unable to stand the silence any longer, I let it all out.

“Look, I tried to kill her, okay? It’s true, it’s all true and if she was in front of me right now, I would do the same! And I would feel completely justified in doing so.” Tears began to well up in my eyes as I continued. “She killed my parents… not personally but she might as well have. All my mother did was read books that disagreed with their horrible, murderous regime. She didn’t even _do_ anything! All she did was have beliefs. And my father – he didn’t do anything either – he didn’t even hate that awful country as much as my mother and I did. And–” the tears were streaming down my cheeks now, and I wanted to stop, to go back to a peaceful conversation and forget all this ever happened. But the words spilled out on their own, memories I’d tried my best to forget filling my head until it overflowed. With every word, my speech became less and less coherent, but I couldn’t stop. “They weren’t hurting anyone! But she just takes such pleasure in seeing people’s pain, she searched through the house until she found something, anything, to report them for! And she didn’t even show the evidence to anyone, so my parents were basically hanged with no proof and… and I saw it all, they made me watch… they…” I collapsed onto the table, accidentally knocking over my cup, but I didn’t even notice as the salty tears mixed with the sweetness of jasmine tea. My body shook with the sobs, and the trapped feeling I’d had on the first day on the ship suddenly came rushing back. _I was going to die._ First my people, then my parents, _then me._ There was nothing anyone could do about it, and it wasn’t my fault, _it wasn’t my fault,_ it was all Azula and her awful father and that horrible, evil country, and I was stuck and breathless and lost, a fish flopping on a hook, my parents hanging – and I was trapped and there was nothing I could do and how dare they, _how dare they,_ and Azula deserved it and I hated her and _it wasn’t my fault!_

I slammed my hands into the table, the impact knocking me backwards, and, as I opened my eyes, the room somehow seemed hotter and brighter than I’d ever seen it. I looked around. The table was already half gone, and disappearing fast. The bed I’d just been sitting on – I jumped up at the realization – was bathed in bright orange, the sheets almost gone, flames reaching up to the ceiling. The chair had just caught fire, and all I could to was stare at it helplessly as it burned to a crisp within seconds. Needless to say, the books were long gone. The table finally fell to the floor, legs too burnt and weak to hold it up, and the teacups on it crashed to the ground, the broken pieces flashing white for a fraction of a second before the blazing curtain of fire covered them in its blinding glow. I stood in what felt like the only safe spot in the room and looked around for seconds that felt like hours, until my eyes finally found Iroh's. He was standing just outside the room, observing the sight in front of him in shock. My voice barely audible through the roar of the flames, I whispered, “Did I do this?” There was no way he heard me, but, from the fear and confusion in my eyes, he understood me anyway. He nodded.

I stood in my spot, trying my best not to breathe in the smoke, until the whole room burned down around me, until all that remained was the skeleton of a mattress-less bed and the four stone walls of the cell. Iroh came back in and sat down on the floor. I sat down too, not knowing what to do. My mind was blank – I was too dazed and tired to think straight.

“What… what just happened?” I whispered eventually.

“You burned down your room.”

“Well, yes but– _What_ _happened_?”

“You lost control.”

The silence stretched between us for a few seconds.

“…why isn’t there fireproof furniture in a Fire Nation ship, of all places?”

“They didn’t plan the ships with someone like you in mind.”

“Oh…”

Silence again.

“I’m sorry for the cups. That’s three now. And about… the rest of the furniture.”

“It’s not a problem. There’s plenty more where they came from.”

And again.

“What will happen to me now?”

“I don’t know…”

“Does anybody else know?”

“No. I can see that you had your reasons. Azula is unstable and has no morals whatsoever. She needs to go down... I haven’t told anyone else and will try to make sure they don’t find out any time soon.”

“Thanks…”

More silence. It was as if neither of us could fully register what just happened. Finally, I came back to my senses enough to give a proper explanation.

“I’m sorry… It’s just so hard for me to remember that night… I guess I should start from the beginning. I’m not actually from the Fire Nation. I lived there but I wasn’t born there, or in the colonies either – don’t ask about why I can firebend, that’s too personal and I don’t want to get into that at the moment, anyway. I was found with no memories – I woke up after a coma when I was twelve – and General Tomin and his wife Mayako took me in. She showed me her secret library and I found out things about my culture that I didn’t remember, and because of all that I knew that all the Fire Nation propaganda was a lie...

I went to school with Azula and she never liked me. But no matter how she felt, I didn’t think she'd let it go so far. One day, I came home from school, and almost immediately after, the police burst into our house and took us all away. They executed my parents and made me watch all of it...

They kicked me out of the house, too. And just as I was about to leave the country for good, Azula approached me and confessed to everything. She felt no remorse for any of it, she was taunting me… I attacked her, fully prepared to fight to the death. But then… she knocked me out with lightning – goodness knows how. I came to in a few minutes and she was lying on the ground and she wasn’t moving. I ran away very soon after that. I tried to help Aang, but his friends didn’t trust me, and then I was captured and… I guess you know the rest.”

As soon as I’d finished, I started crying again, and this time, Iroh was right there. He wrapped me up in his arms just like Dad used to, and we stayed like that for a long time, hugging as my tears fell into his shoulder. It was nice to finally feel like someone cared about me, and a relief to talk about what happened. I fell asleep like that, cheeks still wet with tears and I drifted off, and when I woke up, my room was clean and furnished again, and my bed was soft, and there was food and tea waiting for me. There was a note too, tucked under my cup, and, before I ate, I read it.

_(y/n), you have my permission to walk around the ship, whenever and wherever you want. I’ve given it some thought since last night, and I’ve decided that you would benefit from formal training in firebending. If you’re willing, then come find me. My room is along the corridor, up the stairs, and then the second from the left._

_Enjoy your breakfast,_

_Iroh._

I came to find him as soon as I finished eating, and, after thanking him for his generosity and patience despite last night – he reassured me it was all okay and nothing to worry about – we began.


	8. The Storm

Seemingly appearing out of nowhere and blocking out the dim light of the early evening, a bank of massive, dark clouds covered the sky. The ship tossed and turned in the water - water that until a few minutes ago had been calm. It was cold, and it was wet, and it was too late to turn back now. The storm had crept up on the ship like a wild animal, waiting silently the whole day so that nobody but Iroh had seen it coming, and only now, when it was time for dinner and there was land nearby, did it finally decide to pounce. Nervously, the crew watched the clouds loom above the ship. They didn’t know what would happen now.

It was around this time that (y/n) came onto the deck. She’d just finished training – the last session of the week – and she needed to cool down. Staring at the clouds, wind whipping against her face, she took a moment to think back to the events of this week, more specifically, her progress in firebending.

Overall, she thought, it was going fine. She felt more or less comfortable with the basics by now, and Iroh thought she was learning quickly. She had the raw power, she supposed – all those emotions within her had proven themselves useful, for once. As for technique and control… well, she was beginning to get the hang of it. In the heat of the moment – no pun intended – she would sometimes go too far, and yet another item of furniture would be added to her body count, but those incidents were gradually getting less frequent. Good, thought (y/n). She was beginning to worry that, if she didn’t stop, Iroh would run out of teacups completely.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by another person coming on deck – the Prince himself, she noted with disappointment. Since the very first day when he'd come in to interrogate her, they hadn’t spoken and, though she'd seen him around the ship occasionally, she mostly tried to stay out of his way. Despite Iroh's words, he always seemed so angry and intimidating – (y/n) didn’t want to make him mad and be sent back to her cell permanently.

As Zuko kept walking across the deck, the other soldiers turned to face him, and, as one of them spoke, the air turned heavy with tension. (y/n) recognized the voice as Lieutenant Jee. She knew the two had had a fight earlier that day, though she didn’t know about what. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

“Looks like your uncle was right about the storm after all.”

“Lucky guess.”

(y/n) could tell Iroh was trying to diffuse the situation. As much as she wanted it to, she doubted it would work.

“Lieutenant!” Zuko began walking towards Jee, “You’d better learn some respect –” he jabbed two fingers into Jee's chest –“Or I will teach it to you.”

“What do _you_ know about _respect_?” came the retaliation.

Behind Jee, (y/n) could see Iroh begin to panic. He motioned at Jee to stop – evidently, thought (y/n), this was a touchy subject – but he didn’t notice, and continued.

“The way you talk to everyone around here, from your hard-working crew to your esteemed uncle, shows you know _nothing_ about respect! You don’t care about anyone but yourself! Then again, what should I expect from a _spoiled prince_?”

That was it, (y/n) realized. The two men got into a fighting stance, smoke beginning to rise from Zuko's hand. But, before anything could happen, Iroh stepped in.

“Easy now,” he said, pulling them apart. “Enough! We’re all a bit tired from being at sea for so long. I’m sure after a bowl of noodles, everyone will feel much better.

With that, it was over, and the crew retreated below deck, relieved. (y/n) followed close behind, not wanting to be around Zuko when he was in such an irritable mood. As she was walking away, she heard him say, presumably to Iroh: “I don’t need your help keeping order on my ship.” Then, a few seconds later, there were footsteps, but by this time, (y/n) was already gone.

* * *

(y/n) sat with the other crew members around a burning wheelbarrow as they discussed the events of the past few minutes.

Jee spoke first. “That kid thinks he can order us around all he wants and risk _our_ lives for his stupid Avatar fantasy! Well, I’m having none of it!”

“Yeah!” agreed another man. “He thinks that, just because he’s the Prince, he can take all his silly teenage anger out on us!”

“If there’s _anyone_ he should be taking his anger out on, it should be his barber. Seriously, what is _up_ with that hair?”

After the snickers had subsided, (y/n) finally decided to ask: “Guys… what happened this morning that made him so mad at you?”

“He said the safety of the crew didn’t matter.”

Jee nodded in agreement. “Those exact words, verbatim!”

She sighed. She'd hoped it would all be some meaningless drama, but what he said was genuinely horrible. As much as she trusted Iroh, she was really starting to doubt his optimistic view of his nephew.

“I see…”

“I’m sick of taking his orders!” Jee started again. “I’m tired of chasing his Avatar! I mean, who does Zuko think he is?”

“Do you really want to know?”

The crew gasped, standing up as they saw the person who’d asked the question.

“General Iroh. We were just –”

“It’s okay. May I join you?”

“Of course, sir.”

The room glowed orange with the fire, lighting up Iroh’s face as he walked towards the men and sat down on a box across from (y/n). Their words had hurt him, she thought, but he at least understood why the men felt that way. Of course, he'd try to justify Zuko's words now, say that he was confused, he'd lost his way, and all the things that (y/n) had heard before. And maybe that would appease the crew, for the time being anyway, but, on the other hand, they were grown adults who were deeply offended by Zuko's declaration. All these wise words and pleasant-sounding platitudes wouldn’t cut it with them. They’d need some proper reasons, some actual facts, for once, and, (y/n) thought – since the more she heard about him, the less she liked him – so would she.

As it happened, that was exactly what was coming.

“Try to understand,” began Iroh, massaging his beard as he spoke. “My nephew is a complicated young man. He has been through much. When he was only thirteen…”

And so the story began, and, as the crew sat on their boxes around the fire, emotions began to stir in their hearts that they thought they’d never feel for the person who, just a minute ago, had been nothing more to them than a spoiled prince. Pity. Understanding. Sympathy.

* * *

Zuko sat in his room, listening to the sounds of the rain and the waves as they hammered at the sides of his ship. He was supposed to be meditating – what else was there to do in this weather, anyway? – but he was finding it increasingly difficult to clear his head. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down, to feel the warmth of the candles he'd lit around him, to listen to the rain. That was supposed to be relaxing, he thought, but now, it was anything but. He opened his eyes in frustration and, as he glared at the dragon's head on the wall in front of him, the flames grew to twice their size. He just couldn’t get that day out of his head. The day of his Agni Kai with his own father.

It was his own fault for starting it, he supposed. Sure, what he’d said at that meeting wasn’t wrong, but it was disrespectful to speak out of turn and he'd known that. Now, because he couldn’t even keep his mouth shut – Iroh had warned him to stay quiet – why hadn’t he done that? – but then, Iroh didn’t really understand what it was like – but still, he’d _known_ he shouldn’t say anything and yet he just had to open his mouth anyway. And… now what? Because of that one mistake, that one stupid mistake, everything was ripped away from him. His friends. His father. His whole country. All gone. And if his mother was here, she would have been ripped away too.

He'd had such hope a month ago, he thought. He remembered the day he saw the light, a definite sign of the Avatar's return. He'd been so confident, especially when he saw the Avatar was only a boy. How deceitful first impressions could be… And now, because of his failure at the South Pole, and the subsequent others that came after that – and probably more to come – he was competing with Zhao for the Avatar, stuck-up, aggressive, condescending Zhao, and, as evidenced by the recent showdown at Crescent Island, even this waste of space had infinitely more of a chance of capturing the Avatar than he did. More ships, more soldiers… More respect.

Respect. That’s what everything in his life came down to. He'd disrespected his dad back then, then lost the respect of his country, and now, a member of his own crew had outright threatened him to a fight. And, to make it worse, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame the Lieutenant. He'd lost his honor, because he just _had_ to speak out that day, he just couldn’t listen quietly like he was told. He wasn’t getting respect because _he didn’t deserve it_. And so, the earlier situation couldn’t have been any other way. What right did he have to demand respect if his lack of honor, his _shame_ , was written all over his face? The mark of the banished Prince. The mark of a failure.

But – no. He shook his head and the candles flared up again – _No!_ It couldn’t end like this. He would regain his honor. He would capture the Avatar – it was his duty to do so, and he would spend every last day of his life chasing that kid if he had to. The Avatar and his friends could keep flying away, or swim away to the depths of the ocean – they could keep running wherever, forever, but they couldn’t hide, not from _him_. He would follow them to the ends of the Earth, chase them until the whole group was chained up, helpless, ready to present to his father. Capturing the Avatar was his life's purpose, he thought, his _destiny,_ and he would fulfil that destiny _no matter what_.

By all means, that thought should have calmed him down again. He had a problem, yes, a massive one, but the solution was there, right next to him, soaring over the ocean on a flying bison. He would capture the Avatar, he thought, and then everything would be resolved, and things would return to the way they were always meant to be. But still, that night, he couldn’t find peace. Bitter winds swirled through the sky as waves beat against the ship, tossing it around in the water like it was a toy, heavy raindrops hammering onto the deck like boulders. The storm raged on in the infinite darkness of the night, and it raged on harder in his heart.

* * *

“I looked away,” said Iroh, finishing the story, and then, silence filled the room. Nobody had been expecting something like this, least of all (y/n). And now, she felt terrible for thinking badly of Zuko. They weren’t so different, him and her, she’d realized over the course of the conversation – just another kid with his life ruined by the Fire Nation. Even his royal status hadn’t protected him against the Fire Lord, even the fact that he’d only been thirteen, even the fact that he was Ozai's own and only son. The cruelty of that country knew no bounds, thought (y/n) as she gazed into the fire.

Finally, Jee spoke. “I always thought that Prince Zuko was in a training accident.”

Everyone nodded. They had all assumed the same, until now.

“It was no accident,” began Iroh. “After the duel, the Fire Lord said that, by refusing to fight, Zuko had shown shameful weakness. As punishment, he was banished and sent to capture the Avatar. Only then could he return with his honor.”

It took everything (y/n) had not to stand up and scream. Shameful weakness – _what?_ In what twisted world was it considered _weak_ to not want to fight your own father? And, the thought lingered in her mind, _he was just a kid_ , forced to grow up too soon because of the deranged, sadistic whims of his father.

“So that’s why he's so obsessed,” said Jee, breaking (y/n)’s train of thought. “Capturing the Avatar is the only chance he has of things returning to normal.”

“Things will never return to normal,” replied Iroh. “But the important thing is the Avatar gives Zuko hope.”

The fire died slowly down as the crew walked out of the room, one by one, until only Iroh and (y/n) remained. She wanted to get up and leave, but she couldn’t, and it seemed that neither could Iroh. She understood Zuko all of a sudden, understood his need to capture Aang and no longer hated him for it. Their pasts had forced them into terrible things, both of them. He was trying to get his father’s love back by destroying the world’s last chance at salvation. She’d tried to avenge her parents by attempting murder. If she felt fully justified in her actions, then, (y/n) supposed, so did Zuko. And, just like that, she knew. She needed to talk to him. In her time on the ship, she’d at least had Iroh to talk to, and technically, so did Zuko, except he wasn’t the type to open up, even when he needed to so desperately he was ripping apart at the seams. Maybe she could help? (y/n) didn’t know, but what she did know was that, if she didn’t at least try, she would live with the regret forever. So, having made up her mind, she asked Iroh where Zuko's room was, and, within a minute, she was there.

* * *

The door creaked open, and, though Zuko was frustrated at the interruption, a tiny part of him felt relieved that something new had come up to occupy his mind, something that wasn’t the past. He spun around, and his eyes widened as he saw the girl he’d taken prisoner just over a month ago.

“What are you doing here?” he spat. “Have you finally decided to talk?”

“If you mean about the Avatar, then, I already said that I don’t know anything.” This time, as (y/n) said the words, her voice came out quiet and gentle, so unlike the first time they’d met. Zuko was intrigued, but he didn’t show it.

“Then what? If you’re not here to talk about the Avatar, I suggest you stop wasting my time!”

“It’s a more important matter than that. I came to talk about _you_.” That gentle voice again, that understanding tone. What was up with this girl? – he thought, irritated.

“About me?! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I know what happened to you three years ago. I want to help.”

What? _What?_ How did she know? How could she possibly have a clue – who told her? Well, _there_ was a question that was easy to answer. After all, there was only one other person who could have done it.

“My uncle…” he paused, then suddenly – “Aargh! Why does that lazy fool think he can go around telling everyone my life story! It’s none of anyone’s business!” he turned to face (y/n). “Least of all yours.”

(y/n) said nothing for a few seconds. He was right, she knew – it was his life and she shouldn’t have known anything about it. But, she did now, and there was no turning back. So, she responded, taking care to keep her voice quiet so she didn’t upset him any further.

“I know I can’t understand all that you’ve gone through. Every person’s struggle is unique, and yours is no exception. But I know what it feels like to be alone, and I know what it’s like to be scared of letting others in. It’s hard to show vulnerability when, every time you’ve done it before, life has made sure to punish you in the worst way possible. But that shouldn’t stop you. Your uncle helped me, and he’ll help you too, if you –”

“My uncle?” Zuko cut her off, surprised and even mad at himself that he’d let her talk for so long. “The same uncle who can’t even respect my privacy?”

“If you don’t want to talk to him, I’m here.”

“You? Do you really think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?” he scoffed. “You’re with the Avatar – with the enemy. You’re just looking for a way to exploit me.”

“I’m not. I had exactly the same thoughts when –”

“I don’t care about your thoughts! Just shut up!”

“Zuko I –"

“Shut up!”

(y/n) looked at the candles blazing behind Zuko and sighed. This was harder than it looked – what Iroh could do effortlessly with her a month ago seemed right now like an impossible task. But she couldn’t give up, especially not here, not now that she understood exactly what he was feeling. She tried again after a few minutes, hoping that a pause in the conversation would have changed things.

“Look, you might not want to listen, but think about it like this. It can be like an exchange. I tell you my story, then we talk about yours. That way, you can use anything I say against me as well.”

Zuko didn’t respond, and (y/n) took that as a sign of agreement, and began. She told him about her past – the same thing she'd told Iroh, except the vague bits about bending, and anything about Azula. She could be vulnerable, she thought, without admitting to a crime. It was only an exchange of emotions for emotions, after all, and while he needed to be able to trust her, there was no need to go _that_ far. She hadn’t even revealed her other abilities to Iroh, and as for Azula – she was his sister, after all, and who knew how he'd react when he found out.

As Zuko listened, his anger died down. At first, he'd seen (y/n)’s words as potential clues about the Avatar, and made sure to mentally note down any names, dates and locations she mentioned. But, at she was coming to an end, he couldn’t help but feel just a bit sorry for her. He wouldn’t be letting her in of course, no need for her to know any more than she already did, but he supposed she could keep talking for now.

“… so what I’m saying is, I know what it’s like to feel as if nobody understands, like you’re all alone and there’s nobody you can trust. It feels so isolating, right, like you’re bearing the weight of the world while everyone else walks indifferently past, not even noticing, let alone caring. I know what it’s like to lose people close to you, and how to feel like a failure that will never be accepted. You start hating yourself after a while, you start regretting every single thing you ever did, even when it wasn’t your fault. You latch on to something... anything that will give you a purpose, and then it becomes an obsession, because, if you just do this _one thing_ , everything will be better.” She paused for a moment, thinking about what she’d just said. The last bit, about the purpose and the obsession, that had been a guess on her part. She didn’t have any experiences similar to that, she didn’t even feel like her life had any kind of direction at the moment. But, despite that, the look on Zuko's face as she said those words – a look that he tried his best to cover up afterwards – revealed that she was completely right. She continued: “I guess I just wanted to say that, as much as it feels like it, you’re never actually alone. People _do_ understand and they want to help. So…” she paused, “So please… just this once. It doesn’t have to be to me, but _talk_ to someone. You'll feel better, I promise.”

She finished, and silence filled the room once more as Zuko thought about what to say. He hadn’t wanted to get emotional about this, and he most certainly wasn’t going to show it – but he felt slightly uneasy at just how well she seemed to know what was going on in his head. Feelings that he could barely admit to having spilled out of her mouth like it was nothing, her eyes seeing through defenses that worked even against himself. Whatever this new feeling was – discomfort? understanding? vulnerability? – he certainly didn’t like it.

“I have nothing to talk about,” he said eventually, “Your past might have hurt you, but my past has made me tough and resilient. My hardships have made me strong, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So – there’s nothing left to say!” Suddenly, he was angry again, and the candles flared up once more behind him. “You can leave now!”

(y/n) just looked at him, eyes full of sympathy. The boy who stood in front of her wasn’t an angry teenager – he was a reflection of herself, a hurt child who’d repressed his feelings until they were spilling out at every chance they got, and still, he felt it wasn’t safe to ask for help when he so clearly needed it. She whispered her response at him, just quietly enough for him to hear.

“Your hardships haven’t made you strong… they’ve made you traumatized.”

“No they haven’t!” he retorted, but (y/n) could sense the slight waver of his voice.

“What your father did to you… it wasn’t right. You were only a child. All you did was speak –”

“ _My father did nothing wrong!_ ” he yelled. His fist slammed onto the table, almost knocking over the candles, their flames suddenly soaring up until they were practically touching the ceiling. “Leave!” he yelled, “Leave now, and never come back!”

With that, it was over. (y/n) felt like there was nothing more she could do, not today, anyway. He needed to be alone for a while, sift through his emotions a bit and calm down. She walked away, back to her room, thinking about the conversation and hoping that it was at least a start. She hoped she’d made him the right kind of mad, the kind that would eventually turn into sadness, then reluctant introspection, rather than the kind that would make him shut his feelings up further within himself. She fell asleep worried that night, but the next day, when Iroh told her the story of how Zuko had rescued the helmsman and taken the ship to safety despite seeing Appa fly right by them, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Maybe something she’d said had worked, after all.


	9. Conversations with Iroh - Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timeskippy filler. uwu. i promise smth happens soon.

** DAY 33 ON THE SHIP **

The next day, I spoke to Iroh about my conversation with Zuko during a break in our training.

“It will be hard to get him to open up,” he explained. “He doesn’t trust you. Not only that... there are things he isn’t yet ready to admit even to himself.”

“Yeah, I saw... He got so angry at me, I think he regretted hearing me out at all, in the end.”

“I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“No, not at all! As weird as it sounds, his reaction actually makes me... happy? I mean not _happy_ -happy, more like relief but also not quite that, something like –” I fumbled with my words, not quite sure how to express what I wanted to say.

“Take your time,” said Iroh.

After a few moments of thought, I started again. “It’s like, if the things I said were totally off the mark, he wouldn’t have had a reaction like that, you know? He'd have just brushed me off and not given it any more thought. Maybe a bit of frustration, but that’s all it would have amounted to. But he was so angry... so desperate for me to stop talking...”

“You mean to say he's in denial.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it!” I exclaimed. As usual, Iroh had hit the nail on the head. “I think – deep down, he knows what happened to him was wrong, but he isn’t ready to confront those emotions just yet.”

“It can be hard to come to terms with a father who loves his power more than he loves his child.” He looked at me sadly, “I only wish I could give him the love he needs to compensate...”

“You’re trying your best. And I, for one, think you’re doing a great job.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m glad you think so.”

I smiled, then decided to change the subject.

“What are you going to do now that Zhao has officially taken over the hunt for the Avatar?”

The news had come in today, and had dealt a heavy blow to the morale of the crew, as well as to my own. Zuko chasing Aang was fine, I'd grown to understand – not because of his past, but because every time he tried to capture Aang, it didn’t work out. Zhao, however – though I hadn’t met him personally – seemed from everyone’s words to be a formidable foe.

“There’s not much we can do,” sighed Iroh. “The ship isn’t allowed to move, practically at all.”

“How long do you think this will last?”

“I don’t know... But something tells me it won’t be long.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“While we’re here though, we can use this opportunity to have some fun!” he said, his voice suddenly sounding relaxed and happy.

“What do you mean?” I asked, “How?”

“We can have a music night tonight! I’ve been meaning to try my hand at the tsungi horn for a while now. And I’m sure you’d enjoy listening to Lieutenant Jee's stirring love songs.”

I laughed. “I’m sure I will.”

We were right. The evening was wonderful – a welcome relief from the emotions of the past few weeks. There was only one thing that bothered me that night – Zuko was nowhere to be found.

** DAY 40 ON THE SHIP **

“Where on earth have you been!?” I asked, as soon as I saw Iroh again, after two whole days of him being missing.

“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to warn you... Do you remember the stowaway situation?”

“Yeah.”

“Zuko went to find the lady with the shirshu, and she helped us to track down the Avatar. Of course, it didn’t work out, but we were close.”

“Did you get a chance to see Aang?”

“We did, there was even a fight! Thankfully, they all got away safely.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, relieved. "Though I do wish I could have been there to support them...”

“I know. But I think you will join them again sooner than you realise. For now, it would be wise to use the time you have to practice firebending.”

“I guess... Speaking of, we should get back to training. And yes, before you ask, I have been doing my training exercises.” I smiled at him, and we began.

** DAY 43 ON THE SHIP **

“(y/n)... we need to talk about your training,” said Iroh, coming into my room as I was finishing my dinner.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, “Should I be worried?”

“Worried is the opposite of what you should be right now. As a matter of fact, that’s what I came to talk to you about.”

He handed me a cup of tea and elaborated: “In our past few sessions, I see you’ve gotten better at controlling your emotions. The furniture no longer fears for its life!” – he chuckled – “But there is still much for you to learn. While you do have the techniques down, I worry that your powers are being fuelled the wrong way...”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, (y/n)... Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want.”

I repressed a scoff. He talked about those people as if they were saints! But he was one of the few good ones, so I held my tongue, not wanting to offend him.

“What do you fuel your fire with?”

That was an easy question. “You know my past – all the emotions I felt back then come back to me when I try to bend. I use them as my source.”

“Exactly. After what happened to you, it’s perfectly reasonable you feel that way. But, the truth is, that kind of fuel makes firebending a very painful thing to do. I think, rather than releasing your emotions as fire, it would be healthier to talk things through.”

I thought about it. “We talk a lot already, though. Almost every day – and I do feel better – but what exactly are you suggesting?”

“It is one thing to talk to me... and another to speak to someone with similar experiences. Seeing you understand Zuko so well... I think a talk about your feelings would benefit the both of you.”

I nodded. I liked the idea – more to help Zuko than myself – but would he really want to talk to me after last time? I voiced my question to Iroh.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ve talked to him and he said he'd give it a try.”

“It probably took a lot of convincing, huh?” I smiled.

“He needed some time to process everything.”

“Of course. Anyway, when is this happening?”

“Any time you feel comfortable with.”

“Tomorrow night, then.”

And so, the date was decided, and I waited nervously for the time to come.


	10. Group Therapy

When dinner was over the next day, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and the last traces of orange were fading from the sky. I hadn’t gone out on deck that evening, even though Iroh had invited me to have dinner outside. The weather was nice, he said, and the sky was lovely in that time, but I couldn’t bear to look at it. I was feeling better overall, but the sunsets still brought back memories I’d rather forget.

Instead, I’d spent dinner sitting in my room, picking at my fish with my fork, thinking about the conversation to come. Zuko knew my story, and I knew his, so the easier part was done. That meant that, today, we would actually have to pick apart our feelings, which was much harder. I only barely felt up to the task, and I was sure Zuko felt even less prepared – how could he discuss his emotional struggles, after all, if he denied having them in the first place? But I had made up my mind to help him, and I would dig him out of his denial to the best of my ability, no matter how hard he tried to stop me.

When I finally entered his room later that night, I found him and Iroh in the middle of an argument.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Zuko was shouting, flinging his hands up to the ceiling. Iroh sat across from him and quietly drank his tea, saying nothing. He saw me enter before Zuko did, and I whispered a quick hello as I looked around the room. The chairs were arranged in a triangle, with mine – the empty one – being closest to the door. A table stood in the middle, with three cups of tea. Iroh’s was already nearly empty, but Zuko’s stood completely untouched. I picked up my own cup and sat down.

The first few minutes, I expected someone to say something, but all I heard was the occasional shifting of arms and legs, gulps of tea, and the thud of the cups as they touched the table. Even these sounds grabbed my attention, making me jump every time. If only someone could speak, say something, anything that would break the silence... I sipped my tea as slowly as I could, gazing down into my cup to avoid making eye contact with Zuko, whose eyes I could feel burning holes into my head. I think, had it not been for Iroh's presence, the holes would have been more than just a metaphor.

“So... um... the tea was nice!” I finally said, unable to take the silence any longer.

“Indeed,” agreed Iroh.

“Anyway... um... uhh... how's this all going to work?”

“It can work whatever way you want it to...”

“I guess... yeah... um... yeah.”

For another few seconds, we drifted back into silence, somehow even more awkward than before as Zuko continued to stare at us, eyes only getting angrier. Then, suddenly – he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I knew this would be a massive waste of my time!” he shouted, slamming his hand down onto the table. “I need to capture the Avatar! I have no time to spare for your stupid tea drinking sessions!”

“You know, Prince Zuko, a few moments of peace and quiet, along with a cup of calming jasmine tea, are very good for your mental wellbeing.”

“Your uncle's right, you know...” I said, “But if you don’t like the silence, then... we're here to talk things out.”

“I already told you last time, I have nothing to say!”

“Then you can listen,” said Iroh, calm as ever. “I can go first.” Upon seeing that neither of us protested, he began. “When I was still serving as a General in the Fire Nation Army... I lost my son. I had just broken through the wall of Ba Sing Se, I was so happy at this great victory... I thought it was my destiny to break through the walls, and we were almost done with the second one when...” He stopped, and in the dim candlelight, I could see his eyes beginning to water. “I got the news from my friend, and I couldn’t believe it. I had to see for myself. I saw him, lying there... so peaceful amidst all the destruction. Lu Ten, my only son... I promised him I would see him soon after the war was over. I promised I’d be there for him his whole life... Who knew my promise would be kept in such a way...” I could hear his voice begin to break now, and my own eyes teared up as he continued. “His favourite song when he was a child was Little Soldier Boy. I sang it for him that day, right in the middle of the battlefield... And all I could think about was how my soldier boy... Lu Ten, my brave little soldier boy... would never come marching home.”

He stopped, wiping his tears with his sleeve, and reached for his cup to calm down, forgetting that it was empty. I could do nothing but look at him, his face blurry through my own tears. He was always so calm, so at peace... it hurt to see him like this. Slowly, I got up and wrapped my arms around him.

“I’m sorry...” I whispered.

I wished I had something more helpful to say.

Eventually, he stopped crying, and I sat back down, still dazed from the story.

“I had no idea...”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Grief never fully leaves you. Life splits into a before and after, and things are never the same. But, even in the darkest times, there is always hope.” He looked at Zuko and smiled at him, and, in that wordless smile, all three of us understood each other. Iroh thought of Zuko as his own son.

“Uncle...”

Zuko looked so different now, not angry or frustrated in the slightest. He'd been crying too, and wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“I know, Uncle I –”

“It’s okay, Zuko. I understand.”

I looked on as Iroh hugged Zuko, and they remained together as the candlelight dried their tears. They needed each other – I realised; Iroh needed a son, and Zuko needed a father. Iroh had found someone in his grief, someone to take away the feelings of loneliness and emptiness, to fill his life once more with love and peace and hope. And, though he wasn’t fully aware of it yet, Zuko had found someone too.

* * *

We had a short break after that – just a few minutes to get our feelings in order while Iroh made us some more tea. I stepped out onto the deck to breathe some fresh air, and, when I came back inside, I felt prepared for what was to come. Iroh had told his story, and Zuko wouldn’t talk, not yet. So, that made it my turn, and I was ready.

I began as soon as I sat down.

“You already know my story... My parents... They were the only people who really loved me. They understood me, or tried their best to, anyway. I was reserved at first, didn’t fully trust them until a year of living with them. I’d give anything to see them again now. Even just one more word...

I guess... I guess you already know that though. I think...”

I stopped, knowing that, any minute now, I would start to cry. It was okay to cry, I reminded myself – I needed to get all these feelings out somehow. Still, talking about it didn’t hurt any less – the emotional equivalent of prodding an open wound. I took a deep breath, and a sip of tea, and I continued.

“I think... I should say how it happened. That’s the worst memory. My parents were hanged for treason... Somewhere away from the town, I still don’t know where exactly. I had to watch. Their dying breaths... their struggles... I can hear them at night, sometimes, before I go to sleep. Their gasps for air... Mom's whisper of “I’m sorry"... I can barely make out the words between the groans and the broken screams.

It’s an awful sight, and it dragged on for hours. My parents... a few minutes before, they’d been alive... there... with me... I could have hugged them then, told them everything would be okay. I wish I had. I wish I’d said anything.

They struggled... slowly being reduced to animal instincts as their lungs lost all oxygen. And I couldn’t say anything, I was there, and I couldn’t save them.. I had no words, no thoughts... Actually, that’s a lie. I had thoughts, millions upon millions of them, but almost all of them were just me repeating _this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening_ , over and over and over and over again. And then... then they... they stopped. And they weren’t my parents anymore, just bodies hanging from a rope, and their eyes were dead, and the only movement that came from them was the wind blowing through their clothes. And I looked, and it didn’t hit me, not yet, my parents were still in there somewhere, they could still make it, and I sat there staring at them until the men came to take their bodies away. And then... then they carried the bodies past me and I could see their faces, I looked into their eyes and then it hit me... they were dead... they’d been _murdered_ , right in front of my eyes. And all I could do was sob my eyes out until I fell asleep from exhaustion.”

I stopped. Took a breath. And another. And another. I hadn’t realised when I’d been talking the state I was in, but now that I was done... My face was soaked, my hands were shaking, my head hurt. Why had I agreed to this? And I wished someone would say something, anything, and maybe they _were_ saying something but I just couldn’t hear them anymore. I brought my cup up to my mouth – if I could just calm down – please, anything – I needed to calm down, I couldn’t take this – and my hands shook and the tea went down my clothes. I looked at myself – what a pitiful state – why did I have to start this, why did I always have to make myself feel these things? Why couldn’t I ever be quiet and why _couldn’t they just say something,_ didn’t they know I needed a distraction – I would take anything – _just please, speak_ – and my eyes were overflowing and my head was splitting open and _I couldn’t go on._ I brought my feet up on my chair, hugging myself – I missed when my parents hugged me – _please, someone, anything, please, break me out of this –_ and they weren’t saying anything – except they were, I could see their mouths moving, so _why couldn’t I hear them_ – but I could hear _something_ I realised, and so I tried to listen amongst the sobs – and they were breaths and gasps and “I’m sorry"s. And the scene in front of me was no longer the ship, it was a sunset, my parents and the noose and the concrete block, and the sky was on fire – and then I was back in the room and _it_ was on fire. And, this time, the fire was real.

* * *

They managed to calm me down, in the end. Their voices got through to me, brought me back to reality, and then Iroh announced a break while he cleared everything up and made more tea. I went back out on deck and splashed some cold water in my face, feeling exhausted, completely drained, and slightly irritated. What kind of an example had I set? – I thought to myself – what would Zuko think of me now? To be honest, I wanted to stop the session right there. But no, I reminded myself, I hadn’t agreed to this only for myself – Zuko still needed to open up, and I would make it happen. I had to help him. With that in mind, I went back to the room – thankfully, only a few insignificant decorations had perished in the fire – and sat back down.

Zuko came into the room a few minutes later. He took a quick glance at me – probably to check I wasn’t a danger to my surroundings anymore – and took his seat. I sat there, waiting for him to speak, but he never did.

“Come on, Zuko,” I said eventually. “It’s your turn.”

“I don’t have anything to say. I don’t have some kind of depressing backstory like you do.”

“It doesn’t have to be depressing!” Iroh chimed in.

“Yeah,” I said, “What about something that made you happy?”

“The only thing that will make me happy right now is capturing the Avatar,” he said, impatiently – “Which I am not doing because you two are continuing to waste my time!”

“Oh, come on, Zuko. Alright, we know about your father, what about your mother?”

“My mother... isn’t here anymore. But that’s none of your business!”

Right, I thought, maybe I shouldn’t have gone in that direction. I knew Azula was growing up without a mother the last time I saw her – and they were siblings, after all.

“Alright, then... at least tell me your favourite type of tea?”

I had to try and get at least a tiny bit of information out of him. Baby steps, I reminded myself, baby steps. But no, even that proved to be too personal.

“I don’t care about your stupid leaf water!”

I sighed, growing increasingly frustrated, ashamed as I was to admit it.

“Look, Zuko,” I tried again, “Your uncle and I... we’ve opened up to you about things that are very hard for us to talk about. We trust you, and we won’t hurt you. Please, just do the same for us. Just say anything.”

“What on earth do you people want from me!? If you think I’m some weak little child who needs to have a talk about my feelings, you’re wrong!”

“But you _do_ need to have a talk about your feelings!”

“Fine then!” he yelled, and any traces of calm he had in him vanished in a second. “You want to know how I feel? I’m annoyed. I’m annoyed that you’re wasting my time! And you, specifically, (y/n)?” he spat my name out like it was a dirty word, “I think you’re a clueless cry baby who needs to take a look at reality! Why do you insist on talking about things you know nothing about? And what gives you the right to talk about my father as if he’s some kind of monster?”

I stared at him, shocked. I hadn’t even mentioned the Fire Lord, not today. My words from back then must have really stayed with him.

“Zuko, I –”

“No, I want you to answer me!” His hands slammed against the table as he suddenly shot up, glaring at me with eyes full of rage. “W _hat gives you the right?_ ” He was full-out yelling now, so loud it could probably be heard from the other side of the ship, loud enough to give away the hint of fear and pain in his voice.

“I...” I took a breath, “... because he is, Zuko. Look at what he’s done to the world... Look at what he’s done to you.”

“To me? The only thing he's doing is teaching me respect!”

“ _He's not teaching you respect!”_ Suddenly, I couldn’t stay calm any longer either, my quiet pleading turning into a desperate shout, “Zuko, _open your eyes!_ What he’s doing isn’t called teaching you respect! It’s not teaching you anything, it’s hurting you, it’s _breaking_ you! It’s not called teaching you a lesson, or tough love, or whatever other excuse you use to justify his actions, _it’s called abuse_!”

He froze for a second, almost wincing, and then he was back, louder and angrier than ever.

“Abuse? What are you saying, you delusional idiot, _are you out of your mind?_ He never laid a finger on me!”

“Your face, Zuko! I’m begging you, _look at your face!_ And that’s only the physical scars! What about –”

“Shut up! Shut! Up!” he yelled. “One more word out of you. One more word... And you will end up with scars so bad they’ll cost you your life.”

“I don’t care _– stop lying to yourself!_ You’re lying to yourself and _you know it_ , your father _–”_

He interrupted me, and I froze. He'd been serious. Flames shot forward at my face, getting closer and closer, flames so large they’d burn my entire body – and indeed, as the seconds slowed to hours, I could feel every part of my body heating up, my vision obscured entirely by the fire – and it was going to hit me, I realised, it was actually going to hit me, he'd been serious, the fire was coming and _he was going to burn me_...

Then, as soon as they came, the flames disappeared.

“Get. Out.” A firm voice came from my left – and I blinked, and looked up, and Iroh was standing up, his hand outstretched towards the place where the fire had just been.

“Gladly!” This was Zuko, I realised, and I heard him kick the door open, and it slammed behind him, and all I could think about was _he nearly burned me_.

I flopped down onto my chair – only now did I realise I’d been standing up – then picked up my cup, and downed my tea all at once. What just happened, what on earth – _he tried to burn me._

“I’m sorry.” said Iroh eventually. “I understand that my nephew is hurt, but his behaviour is unacceptable.”

I sat there, still trying to process everything.

“Traumatic pasts do not excuse violent actions,” he continued, “I acknowledge that, and I want you to know that too. He has to apologize for what he did. It wasn’t right.”

“Yeah, I just... Sorry, I’m all shaken up.”

“It’s okay.”

A few seconds passed, and then the tea brought me back to my senses.

“I get what you’re saying... You’re right. But even so, honestly... I shouldn’t have pushed him so far. I just – I can’t bear seeing him lie to himself like that. And he knows it, too, he knows that he’s in denial, otherwise he wouldn’t be acting like that...”

“You are right in what you said. But my nephew needs to realise those things for himself, in his own time.”

“Yeah, of course... Ugh, I feel so stupid now – I was just trying to help and I made things worse... I think I get why he doesn’t want to admit it, though. He’s lost his mom, so he already has just the one parent...”

“That’s right,” confirmed Iroh, “If he admits to himself that his father does not love him, it will be as if he doesn’t have anyone at all.”

“Like losing both parents...” I whispered. And, suddenly, it all made sense.

“He needs to learn to find love and acceptance in himself,” said Iroh, after a pause. “Only then can he stop looking for it in others. Only then can he stop looking for it in his father.”

“Of course... Of course. But, he has you!” I exclaimed, suddenly hopeful. “You’re a much better father to him than Ozai ever will be! You love him just as much as a real dad!”

“I do... I only wish he’d see it. I only wish he’d let me in.”

* * *

I helped Iroh wash up and bring the room back in order, and then I came back to my room. As I walked along the corridor, I saw a door was open, and I peeked into it. It was Zuko’s room. I could see him sat there, meditating, and then the candles flared up, right to the ceiling, before dropping back down, extinguished.

I didn’t sleep that night.


	11. Back on Track

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, plot happens.

Ever since that night, I went back to staying out of Zuko's way. As Iroh had told me, maybe it was for the best that Zuko didn’t acknowledge things yet. Denial was a powerful defense mechanism, and one that, at the moment, he clearly needed.

I kept up my training, and I found that Iroh had been right. As disastrous as things had ended up being, at least I’d had the chance to talk everything through. Though it was still an extremely painful memory, I no longer lost control of my emotions, or of my bending, and on the whole, I was feeling much better.

Tonight, it was another music night on the ship. I was having fun – Lieutenant Jee was playing a tune, accompanied by some drums, and Iroh was singing. I was contemplating whether I should join in, when the music stopped.

“What’s –"

I trailed off as I saw them.

A group of Fire Nation soldiers boarded the ship, masks concealing their faces, except for one. He seemed to be their leader. Quickly and quietly, I slunk away into the shadows, hoping they hadn’t come for me.

“On the orders of Admiral Zhao, the crew of this ship is to join the Fire Nation Navy in attacking the North Pole and capturing the Avatar! Everyone on this ship is to evacuate it at once!”

As one of the soldiers barked the order, I let out a silent gasp. Admiral Zhao – Iroh had mentioned him, and even though I’d known he was a threat back then, I never thought Aang would be up against a whole invasion fleet. If there was a silver lining to this, it was that they hadn’t noticed me, but in that moment, I wished with all my heart that I’d been their target instead. Anything was better than Aang and his friends going against the Navy – hundreds of warships, thousands of highly competent soldiers. And, even though Aang had the Northern Water Tribe to support him, I couldn’t be sure that it would be enough.

Zhao's soldiers left the ship, leaving the crew to pack their bags, and only Zhao himself remained, along with Iroh.

“Take me to the Prince!” he ordered.

Iroh obliged, and then they were gone, leaving me alone.

I stood there and thought about what I should do. I couldn’t escape now – Zhao's ship was right there – too risky. Escape some other time tonight? Maybe – after all, the crew would be gone. On the other hand, how would Iroh and Zuko respond to that? Maybe they’d keep a closer eye on me. Iroh might let me go, but not Zuko. So, scratch that option too. And where did that leave me? Stay put and do nothing as Aang was captured and the world’s last hope was destroyed? No – that was worse than all the previous options combined. If only there was someone who knew the situation well and could help me… And, I realised, there was. There was someone who knew exactly what was going on with Aang, and could even lend me his powers to escape if I needed it. I would have to try and contact Avatar Roku.

* * *

  
An hour had passed, and, as it turned out, contacting Roku was much easier said than done. I’d been trying to meditate back in my room – but, of course, that wasn’t working, and, as much as I needed to speak to him, I wasn’t going to knock myself out to do it. I’d just have to wait for a quieter moment and try meditation again, because right now, I couldn’t focus. I could hear the crew leaving the ship now – their footsteps on the metal floors, their wishes of good luck. And then, they were gone, and it was just the three of us left: Iroh, Zuko, me. Then, someone else left, and, judging by the slower, lighter footsteps, and the faint sound of a hummed song, it must have been Iroh. Now there were two; the ship was finally quiet again.

* * *

  
I had just got my breathing right and was finally getting somewhere in my meditation, when I heard more noises. Iroh must have come back, I thought, except it didn’t sound like him at all, far from it. The movements were too quick, too messy and jerky. So then – I froze – who was this? Trying to make as little noise as possible, I got up, and tiptoed to the door, listening out for more sounds. Nothing. Dead silence. Then – a sound that I couldn’t quite make out. And, immediately after:

“Uncle?”

A door opened. Zuko’s door.

“Uncle, is that you?”

Cautious steps along the corridor – starting and stopping around each corner.

Then, fast feet upon the deck, the scurrying of what sounded like multiple people.

Zuko's cautions steps again.

Silence. A dreadful silence, filled with tension and suspense, and all I heard was the racing of my heart.

And then – a deafening boom.

The ship shook with the force, furniture flying across the room, me following close behind. I landed on my back and looked up, and I wasn’t looking at metal, not anymore, but at millions of bright lights, _the sky_ , I realised – somehow, the ceiling, and part of the wall had been ripped off. 

Before I had a chance to take anything else in, another explosion shattered the night. It was stronger this time, louder, and there I was flying again, out of the space where the wall had just been, my eyes barely registering the sight before me as I shot into the air. A blindingly bright flower of flames burst from the wreckage – the ship, ripped completely open, erupting in smoke and fire. The noise of the explosion rang in my ears, and I was soaring through the sky, and then I wasn’t, and I was falling, falling, falling, the orange light of the blazing ship illuminating my path.

A crash, and then a ferocious burbling in my ears.

The ocean.

Ice-cold. Dark. _Painful_ – the landing hit me like a train, knocking the air out of my lungs, water colliding with my body.

“Zuko!” I thought I heard someone scream – Iroh?

Then, a response, loud, but barely audible through the roar of the waves.

At least they were safe, I thought, and then, everything faded to black.

* * *

  
The forest. The lake. The yellow sky.

I sat up, recognizing this place as the one where I’d spoken to Roku almost two months ago. So, I had reached him somehow, after all, even if it wasn’t the way I’d hoped. I sat and waited for him to come, and sighed with relief upon hearing the familiar rustling of leaves.

“Hello, (y/n).” he said, sitting down next to me.

“Hello… it’s been a while.”

"Indeed it has... I understand you were captured by the Fire Nation?”

“Yep… but I’m off the ship now, it looks like." I felt a pang of sadness as I said those words, for, thanks to Iroh, the stay had ended up being much more pleasant than I ever thought it would be. Iroh... I would miss him and Zuko, I knew, but a part of me told me we'd see each other again soon. Zuko was still trying to capture the Avatar, after all, and locating Aang had never been a problem for him before. "Did you get a chance to speak to Aang? His friends didn’t exactly trust me back in Kyoshi Island.”

“Of course… I have explained your role to him. I’m sure he’s passed it on to his friends.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, relieved. They'd have to trust me now. “Speaking of Aang, he's at the North Pole, right?”

“I believe so. He was going there to find a waterbending master, and should have arrived by now.”

“Then I’ll be joining him very soon.”

“To master waterbending with him? It's not a bad idea. But be careful, (y/n), the element of water might not come to you easily.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” I corrected, ignoring his confusing remark. He didn't know, then… "The North Pole is in danger," I explained, "Admiral Zhao of the Fire Nation, along with a huge fleet, is about to stage an invasion of the Northern Water Tribe. But their goal is not only the tribe." I frowned. "They’re after Aang.”

“Then you must come to their aid at once! I will help you get there quickly. But, (y/n), I must warn you. When you arrive, you are on your own. No matter what happens, you should remain conscious, and if you need to contact me, do it through Aang. If a harmful spirit were to enter your body during such a decisive battle…”

“The consequences would be disastrous,” I finished. “I will try my best not to mess up.” I resisted the urge to add ‘again’.

“I’m glad you understand,” he smiled. “And now, (y/n), it is time for you to go. Goodbye, and good luck.”

“Goodbye!” I said, and with that, the scene disappeared.

My surroundings faded to black, and then, as I opened my eyes, to an icy blue. I stood in a pile of snow, cold wind biting at my body, and stared at the city that lay before me in wonder. It was beautiful – the, ahem, polar opposite of what I was used to – boats passed by below the city streets as structures made entirely of ice shimmered in the sunlight. It was so different from the oppressive monotony of the Fire Nation, so much so that even the air itself seemed fresh with freedom. I took a deep breath. I was here.

Now, all that was left to do was to find Aang.


	12. The Siege of the North

The city stretched out before them; roads, rivers and residences blurring into glistening fields of ice as the wind beat against their blushing faces. Soaring through the clouds on Appa's back, Sokka looked down at the beauty of the Northern Water Tribe, and didn’t take in any of it. Sure, the city was an amazing view, he thought, but the real view was right there – the excited face of the girl sat next to him, innocent giggles escaping her lips as she pointed out every building she could recognize.

“Look, Sokka! I can see the palace!” she smiled, the sound of her voice hitting his ears like a symphony. He nodded, only half-listening as he stared at the ecstatic glimmer in her eyes.

She continued, her face lighting up the sky like the moon lights up a dark night: “Oh my goodness! This is all so wonderful! Wow, I can’t believe you do this every day.”

“Yeah, we pretty much live up here.”

He stretched, breathing in the fresh, icy air. The decision to take Yue on a ride with Appa was a great one, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back. She was enjoying herself so much, and maybe the freedom of the skies was exactly what she needed to put aside her duties as Princess.

“Is it always this cold in the sky?” she asked, and then, much to Sokka's delight, she moved a little closer to him.

He smiled. “Not when you’re with someone.”

“It’s beautiful up here."

She was really blushing now, the crimson dusting her cheeks making her look sweeter and more enchanting than ever, and Sokka suspected it wasn’t just the wind.

“Yeah…”

He turned to her, looking into her eyes, and – his heart leapt with joy – he saw her doing the same, finally letting go of her doubts and apprehensions. Slowly but surely, they leaned into one another, and the distance closed between them. But then – _no_ – thought Sokka – _this isn’t right –_ she didn’t _really_ want this – and so, at the last second, he turned away.

 _Play it cool_ – he thought to himself, taking a deep breath to still his beating heart. _Like the ice, Sokka. Coooool…_

“Woo, yeah! Ahhh, good times, good times,” he finally spoke.

“Yeah…” Yue giggled nervously beside him, and both of them wished desperately that something would happen that would break them out of this awkward silence. Appa was getting tired now, and they were flying down, and neither of them wanted to end their ride on such an uncomfortable note.

It was Sokka who saw it first.

“Hey, Yue!” he said, pointing down to the city below. “Do you see that?”

“See what?” she asked, confused.

“Over there!” he pointed at a shape that, as the pair descended further and further from the clouds, was beginning to look more and more like a person. “The blob!”

“Oh, I see!” exclaimed Yue. “But… wait, is it… waving? At us?”

Sokka saw it too now – a girl was running towards them, following Appa's path as he landed, and frantically signaling at them to stop.

“Well,” said Sokka, “I guess we should see what they need.”

Appa’s feet finally touched the ground, and within a minute of the landing, the waving stranger caught up to them. Immediately, she spoke, her words barely comprehensible through pants and wheezes.

“I… the Avatar… Aang… where… Kyoshi… Roku… aaaaagh!” She sighed, collapsing onto the snow.

After a few seconds, she looked up.

“Sorry, I’m just… out of breath… Just… Bear with me…”

Sokka and Yue stood looking at her in confusion. She clearly knew something about Aang, thought Sokka, but who was she? He definitely had to hear her out now.

“My name is (y/n)… I met with Aang and Katara on Kyoshi Island. I spoke to Avatar Roku and he said I had to help Aang defeat the Fire Lord, but before I could help in any way, I was captured…. Um…” she suddenly looked up at the pair and raised an eyebrow, “You two _are_ both friends of the Avatar, right?”

“Yeah… Well, technically, I’m the one actually travelling with him, Yue just… lives here,” said Sokka, the last few words filling him with a mixture of longing and sadness. Even if him and Yue did both like each other, he would still have to leave her behind… But, no, now was not the time to think about that. He took one last look at (y/n), and, though he didn’t recognize her appearance, he'd heard Aang and Katara mention her name, so, he supposed, it wouldn’t hurt to bring her to them.

“I’ll take you. Come with me,” he said, snow crunching under his feet as he began to walk in the direction of his friends.

Breathing a sigh of relief, (y/n) followed.

* * *

Aang and Katara had just finished waterbending training, and were now sat in a pile of snow, discussing their morning.

“Wow, Katara, you’re really doing well!” laughed Aang, remembering the ease with which Katara had defeated Master Pakku's other pupils.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, a sweet little smile that almost made Aang blush. “I suppose having a teacher really does make a difference.”

“Awww, Katara, you’re not giving yourself enough credit! I mean, even before you began training, your fight with Master Pakku was incredible! I wish I could waterbend half as good as you.”

“Aw, now _you’re_ the one not giving yourself any credit. I mean, that snowman you made there? Spectacular.”

“Thanks,” laughed Aang, leaning back into the snow and looking up at the sky. It was nice to relax a little, a welcome break from his responsibilities. He knew he should probably be taking his training more seriously, but he just couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on a day like this. The snow was soft, the wind was fresh and pleasant against his face, and the cheerful voices in the distance made it seem like everything was, and would be, okay. He sighed, and listened to the sounds of the early afternoon. A splash. A giggle. The crunch of footsteps. Wait – _footsteps_? He sat up. The sounds were getting closer, three people, he realised, and he looked in the direction of the noise to see who it was.

“Aang, Katara… This is (y/n). She wanted to see you.”

It was Sokka who has spoken, and, along with him, Aang saw that Yue and (y/n) had arrived.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. And then –

“(y/n)!” gasped Katara, “Oh my goodness, (y/n), I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine –”

“No, it isn’t,” interrupted Katara. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst of you, and now I know better. You’re not a Fire Nation spy, and you were just trying to help me.”

“Yeah,” added Aang. “We should have trusted you. Roku told me everything. It turns out you’re actually a fellow airbender, huh?”

“Kind of? I _am_ an Air Nomad, but currently, all I can bend is fire…” (y/n) trailed off nervously.

“But you have the ability to bend air, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So, I’ll teach you!” exclaimed Aang.

“And I can teach you water! It’s the least I can do,” suggested Katara.

“You would do that? Thank you so much!” She smiled, and, for a moment, their faces all filled with happiness and relief. Then, a look of concern crossed (y/n)’s face, bringing the peace to an end. “But right now… there's no time. Any day now, Admiral Zhao might arrive with his fleet. He’s going to attack the North Pole.”

“Wait, what?” Aang's eyes widened in fear.

“Zhao!” cried Sokka.

“An invasion?”

“My tribe…”

Their voices sounded all at once, (y/n)’s warning leading to more questions than it answered. She opened her mouth, ready to explain all that she knew, but before any words could come out, something cold trickled against her cheek. The snow had started falling, and not just any snow, she realised as she stared at the snowflakes floating onto the icy ground in disbelief. She rubbed her eyes – no way this was possible – but when she opened them, nothing had changed. The snow was sprinkled all over the floor, over her clothes, over her and her friends' faces, and it kept falling, faster and faster, and – Katara's gasp confirmed it wasn’t just her imagination – the snow was black.

* * *

“The day we have feared for so long has arrived,” came the voice of Chief Arnook as he solemnly addressed his people. “The Fire Nation is on our doorstep. It is with great sadness I call my family here before me, knowing well that some of these faces are about to vanish from our tribe… but they will never vanish from our hearts. Now, as we approach the battle for our existence, I call upon the great spirits. Spirit of the Ocean! Spirit of the Moon! Be with us! I'm going to need volunteers for a dangerous mission.”

Before his friends could object, Sokka rose from his seat. “Count me in!”

“Sokka…” began Katara, but, as Sokka began to walk forward, she knew any attempt to stop him would be useless.

“Be warned, many of you will not return. Come forward to receive my mark, if you accept the task.”

As the men came up one by one, Chief Arnook painted three red lines on their foreheads. Nobody said a word. A weight hung above everyone in the room that afternoon, a reminder that today might be these brave volunteers’ last day on earth. Finally, it was Sokka's turn. Just as the men before him, he stood still as the lines were painted onto his forehead, and, as he walked away, he looked at Yue one last time. She faced him, wet eyes glistening with the silent question of why he did it, filled with tears and silent pleas to the spirits for his safety. She looked away. If something happened to him, she thought, _she would never forgive herself._

* * *

The meeting had finished, and Aang sat on a snowdrift outside the city, thinking about what was to come.

“The stillness before battle is unbearable. Such a quiet dread.”

Arnook was there, stood next to him, and so was Katara. Aang looked at the city ahead, determination in his eyes.

“I wasn’t there when the Fire Nation attacked my people. I’m going to make a difference this time.”

He rose, gripping his staff, and his eyes rose to the cold polar sky. He wasn’t going to let another nation be wiped out because of his inaction. Though he didn’t feel at all prepared, not yet, his duty was to protect the world, and that included these people. There was no way around it. He had to. _He had to._

* * *

The icy wall towered over the ocean, a wall that had, for a whole century, protected the Northern Water Tribe from invasion. Like Ba Sing Se, the tribe found comfort in their walls, always around to protect the people behind it when they needed it most. It was strong, and thick – it had stood for the whole duration of the war and, just like the people’s faith in it, it had never wavered. That was, until today.

Aang – sat on Appa, Katara, Sokka, (y/n) and Chief Arnook were gathered at the wall, the warriors of the tribe lined up and ready for battle behind them. Everything was still for a few minutes – the silence was suffocating, yet nobody dared to be the first to break it. In the distance, something appeared on the horizon, getting bigger and bigger as it flew at the city, and still, nobody spoke.

Then, before anyone knew it, (y/n) was right up against the wall, leaning over so that she was only a few centimeters short of falling, her hands outstretched at the fireball hurtling towards them. A moment later, there was a splash as it landed in the ocean. The wall trembled slightly with the shock waves, but remained standing. Even so, it was too early for relief. The fireballs kept coming, one after another and, try as she might, there was no way (y/n) could hold them all off. One crashed into the ocean, another landed uncomfortably close to the wall, and then the wall itself was struck, throwing everyone back and burying them beneath the frosty blanket of snow.

As the crowd crawled back out into the light, they looked at the wall, and saw the massive damage the fireballs had already done. Before their terrified eyes, the wall that had protected them for one hundred years, the powerful, mighty wall they’d all believed in, was filled with holes the size of houses, cracks the size of canyons. Their walls, the defences they’d spent years building up for this specific occasion, were falling apart, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“Young lady… can I have a word?”

As soon as he'd clambered his way out of the snow, Chief Arnook had gone to find (y/n). Now, he was standing beside her, both of them facing the ocean, looking on as fireballs flew at the city.

“Yes, Chief?” she said, cautiously.

“What you did back there… was it…?” he trailed off, seemingly afraid to even utter the words.

“Yes. Firebending. I promise I’m not evil or anything though!” added (y/n) quickly. “Aang, Sokka, Katara… they’ll all vouch for me! I promise I meant no harm!”

“I saw how you deflected the fireballs. You helped us, and I won’t label you a criminal over that.”

(y/n) smiled, comforted by Arnook's words. “Thank you.”

“However, there _is_ something I need from you,” he continued, “Is there any chance you’re at all familiar with the military strategy of the Fire Nation?”

“Of course! And I can tell you things specifically about the leader of this invasion, too, and about how the ships are structured!”

“Then that will be a great advantage for us. Come with me,” he said, beginning to walk in the direction of the palace, “I’ll take you to the leader of our counterattack.”

(y/n) followed along behind him as they walked through the city, the crunch of footsteps in the snow no longer audible over the cacophony of splashes, explosions and screams. It seemed that, no matter where she went, the Fire Nation always had to follow. All she could do was hope the information she had would prove useful against the attacks, and would help the Northern Water Tribe win. Because, if they didn’t win… well, she didn’t want to think about it.

* * *

“Men!” called Arnook, standing in front of the group of volunteers, Sokka being amongst them. “You’ll be infiltrating the Fire Nation Navy. That means you’ll all need one of these uniforms.”

As he spoke, a young man came out, displaying the clothes the volunteers would have to wear. Sokka laughed, and (y/n) raised an eyebrow. _This_ was what the Northern Water Tribe thought Fire Nation soldiers wore? _Really?_

“What’s your problem?” said the man wearing the uniform as he glared at Sokka.

“Fire Navy uniforms don’t look like that.”

“Of course they do. These are real uniforms captured from actual Fire Nation soldiers,” he snapped.

“When, like, a hundred years ago?”

“Eighty-five,” corrected Arnook.

(y/n) sighed. They didn’t know the first thing about the military forces they were up against. She would evidently have a lot of explaining to do, she thought, but Sokka beat her to it.

“The Fire Nation doesn’t wear shoulder spikes anymore. The newer uniforms are more streamlined.”

“Yeah,” agreed (y/n). “He’s right, you know. A lot has changed in eighty-five years.”

The young man growled. “How do we know we can trust them? Such bold talk for a new recruit, and a _girl_.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Now there was someone she definitely wouldn’t get along with.

“Sokka is from our sister tribe, Hahn. He’s a capable warrior and I value his input. As for (y/n)… she’s had a lot of… first hand experience with the Fire Nation.”

Sokka shot Hahn a smug look, and Arnook continued.

“Now, our first objective is to determine the identity of their commanding officer, which I believe Sokka and (y/n) are already aware of.”

“His name is Zhao,” said Sokka. “Middle aged… big sideburns, bigger temper.”

“He’s requisitioned crew from a lot of different ships for this invasion,” added (y/n). “They want to use the daytime to their advantage to attack, as sun makes their fire stronger. Therefore, a counterattack will be the most successful at night, especially since there’s a full moon coming."

“I see…” said Chief Arnook. “In that case, Sokka, (y/n). I want you two to tell everything you know to Hahn. He’s leading the mission. Hahn, show them your respect. I expect nothing less from my future son-in-law.”

With that, he walked away. As soon as he was gone, Sokka turned to Hahn and narrowed his eyes, mouth agape in shock.

“Princess Yue's marrying _you_?”

“Yeah, what of it?” he said, irritated.

“Nothing.” Sokka turned away in disappointment. “Congratulations.”

The conversation once again turned to war-related issues, and the next couple hours passed in discussions of what should be the next step forward. Sokka and (y/n) had explained what they knew – that part was easy enough, but now, they were finding it hard to agree on a plan of action.

“I really think a night time infiltration is the best way to go,” (y/n) was insisting. “Without the sun, they’re less powerful, plus, they’re more tired as well, making them less likely to notice us.”

“They’ll notice us anyway, night _or_ day!” argued Hahn, “The uniforms – you two said it yourself, remember? – or have you forgotten already?”

“But even so, they’ll notice _less_ at night. If we’re quiet, they might not pay much attention to us.”

“I see your point, (y/n)…” said Sokka, “but how is this whole army of volunteers going to be quiet? At night, everything is silent anyway, so they’ll be able to hear us.”

“Well, if we only put a couple of people on each ship, surely it wouldn’t make _that_ much noise?”

“A couple people? No way that will be enough!” protested Hahn.

“Hmmm,” thought Sokka, “We don’t exactly have enough volunteers for more than two or three people per ship.”

“Well then, we need more people!”

“And where are we going to get them? We have to make do with what we have!” asked (y/n), signs of stress beginning to show in her voice.

“But it’s not enough!” cried Hahn.

Sokka sighed as he looked at the pair in front of him. “…Maybe we should all take a few minutes to calm down,”

(y/n) nodded. She didn’t notice how her and Hahn had got carried away, and they really weren’t getting anywhere at this rate. So, she supposed, clearing their heads wasn’t such a bad idea. She leaned back in her chair, and Sokka and Hahn went to sharpen their axes. Unfortunately, Hahn didn’t take to the interruption as well as she did, and decided he would try to hit Sokka where it hurt.

“Let me tell you, Sokka,” he began, voice dripping with smugness. “I’ve courted a lot of girls, but Yue is the finest and she comes with the most perks.”

“Perks?” responded Sokka, falling for the provocation. “What does _that_ mean?”

“I mean, Yue’s nice and everything, but the points I’ll gain with the chief aren’t bad either.”

Sokka was really starting to get angry now, (y/n) saw, and she felt bad for him and wanted to say something, but before she could, Sokka exploded.

“Princess Yue is wasted on a self-absorbed weasel like you!”

“Woah, hang on,” said Hahn, “What do _you_ care?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Of course Hahn knew why Sokka cared. Otherwise he’d have kept his stupid mouth shut.

Hahn continued: “You're just a simple rube from the Southern Tribe. What would you know of the political complexities of our life?” He smirked. “No offence.”

(y/n) could see Sokka getting even angrier.

“Don’t do it, Sokka, he's just trying to get a rise out of you!” she shouted, but already, it was too late. Sokka had tackled Hahn to the ground, and the two rolled around on the floor in a struggle, pulling at each other’s ponytails.

“You’re just a jerk without a soul!” yelled Sokka, “No offence!”

Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, Chief Arnook came in. (y/n) looked at him with an expression of worry on her face, not wanting Sokka to get into trouble, but he didn’t notice. He walked over to the boys and separated them, his voice loud and authoritative as he said: “That’s enough! Sokka, you’re off the mission!”

As Sokka got up, arms crossed in frustration, (y/n) spoke.

“Chief Arnook… If you don’t mind, could I explain to you what happened? I think you should give Sokka another chance…”

“Alright, (y/n),” he said, “Come with me, and we'll talk about it.”

As they closed the door and walked away, the last thing (y/n) heard was Hahn yet again mispronouncing Admiral Zhao's name.

* * *

“So what you’re saying is, Hahn is only in it for the perks?”

Chief Arnook had listened to (y/n) carefully, trying to not let his emotions cloud his judgement. She'd told him everything – everyone's frustrations, Hahn's words, Sokka's feelings for Yue, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to think. For a moment, he wondered if it would be best to call the engagement off – his daughter, Princess of the Northern Water Tribe, deserved better than a sly opportunist – but then, he reminded himself, there were currently more important things at hand. He would have to sort something out for Sokka, he thought, he'd been too harsh on the boy.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” confirmed (y/n). “Sokka was just rightfully upset that Yue was being talked about like that.”

“I see.” He thought for a moment, and made up his mind. “Let’s go find Sokka, then. I think I have a job that he wouldn’t mind doing.”

As they set off to find him, (y/n) smiled with the thought that, if nothing else, she’d at least stopped her friend getting into trouble.

* * *

Sokka took the news well, despite his initial sarcasm, and assumed his new responsibilities of protecting Yue as soon as the Chief had left the room. It was just the two of them in there now, Sokka and (y/n). He thanked her for whatever she'd said to Arnook, and then they set off to look for Yue.

As they left the palace, they were both shocked to realize that night had already fallen. It was dark out, completely, water having extinguished even the light of the fireballs that a few hours ago had bombarded the city. The streets now lay in ruins around them, and the pair walked on in solemn silence, observing the damage that would no doubt take months to repair. The faint glow of the moon reflected from the shards of ice that lay at the foot of every broken building, bathed the bridges that that had collapsed into the river in a weak, silvery light. They walked on through the snow – snow that only this morning had been so fresh, so dazzling as it glistened in the sunlight, and now was grey and dirty as it mixed with soot – their boots crunched in the desolate silence of the night, and nothing else moved.

Eventually, (y/n) noticed the sky begin to get a little brighter, and the first snowflakes of the early morning settled on her cheeks. Still black, she thought, sighing as she wiped them off. They hadn’t found Yue yet, though how long they’d been looking, she didn’t know. Just like the icy landscape all around it, time itself had frozen in that night, and minutes turned to hours, seconds into centuries, and months to mere moments. But now, the spell was broken. Dawn was flaming on the horizon, the sky lighting up with shades of pink and orange, and, of course, red, red – (y/n) realised – like the fireballs that once again were hurtling towards the destroyed city.

This time, however, it didn’t stop there. The ground trembled, and then the quiet calm of the morning was shattered once and for all with a thunderous crack, and all (y/n) and Sokka could do was to stare in horror as Fire Nation ships forced their way through the walls of the North Pole. The rising sun glinted off of their metal hulls, and flames glinted in Sokka and (y/n)’s eyes, reflecting the fireballs that lit up the sky like a meteor shower.

“I can’t watch this.”

(y/n) spoke suddenly, and a determined look showed on her face.

“Me neither,” agreed Sokka.

“Then let’s go.”

They took a deep breath, and Sokka readied his boomerang, ready to run at the first Fire Nation soldier he saw, when another voice interrupted them.

“Wait, _stop!_ ”

(y/n) turned around, to see that Yue had finally arrived.

“Yue?”

“Oh my goodness, where have you been?”

“We spent the night looking for you!”

Their cries broke through the booms of the bombardment, their faces softening in relief as they saw her. But that relief didn’t last, as Yue's next words, spoken through pants and panicked sobs, filled their hearts with dread.

“Aang… I think he's in trouble, we… Katara and I, we were with Aang and he was meditating, glowing even, and then this boy came!” Her hands rose to her face. “He had this scar, right there!” she demonstrated, and, releasing another sob, continued, “Katara was fighting him… but he’s a firebender and I… I don’t know if she managed to win against him… He – he had this… This ponytail –"

“Zuko…” Sokka hissed the words that (y/n) had realised a minute ago. “We have to save Aang! Where is he?”

“Far away…”

“Then we’ll get Appa,” commanded Sokka, already running off back in the direction of the palace. “Come on, we have no time to lose!”

* * *

When they arrived at the Spirit Oasis half an hour later, Katara had just woken up, and was crawling around in the grass, desperately searching for Aang.

“What happened? Where’s Zuko?” shouted Sokka, immediately rushing towards his sister.

“He took Aang. He took him right out from under me…” said Katara, her voice a mixture of dismay and disbelief. She couldn’t believe she’d let Zuko get away. She was doing so well, but then the sun had come up and… Well, here she was, sitting by the pond, and Aang was gone.

“Where did they go…” murmured Sokka.

“I don’t know… I can’t believe I lost him.”

Sokka put a hand on her shoulder.

“You did everything you could, and now we need to do everything we can to get him back.” As Katara looked up at him, tears in her eyes, he continued: “Zuko can’t have gotten far. We'll find him. Aang’s gonna be fine.”

“Okay. It’s alright,” said Katara, reassuring herself more than anyone else. She got up and mounted Appa, and the rest of the group followed close behind. “You stay here, Momo, in case Aang comes back.”

“Yip, yip!” called Sokka, and with that, they flew off, out of the Spirit Oasis, and into the sky. For a moment, their eyes were met once again with scenes of battles and bloodshed, and then it was gone, and they were soaring above the clouds, blazing fireballs replaced with bitter winds and white emptiness.

For a while, their only surroundings was the tundra spreading out in all directions, snow and ice stretching out as far as the eye could see. The snow flew at them relentlessly, a raging blizzard consuming most of their vision. It wasn’t so much the cold that made them shiver, huddling together on Appa’s back and hugging their legs close to their bodies. They were stuck in a storm much worse – a never-ending hurricane of constant anxiety, desperation and dread.

(y/n) had lit a small flame in her hand, and was staring blankly at the landscape, lost deep in thought. She hadn’t been surprised when she learned of Zuko's actions, she supposed. She knew he wouldn’t give up on chasing the Avatar, and here he was, trying to fulfil his purpose. She hadn’t expected anything different from him, after all, he hadn’t exactly undergone a massive change of character since they’d first met, not yet, not even close. She'd even thought that Zuko's quest to capture Aang would be the reason for them meeting again, someday… So then, she reasoned, her current emotions didn’t make any sense. If she’d known everything so clearly beforehand, why was she so disappointed? She shook her head, trying to get the thoughts to disappear. The North Pole was under attack, Aang was missing, and now was definitely not the time to be getting confused about her feelings.

Appa grunted, tired under the weight of four people, not to mention the snow growing damp on his fur, but instinctively, he knew he couldn’t stop here. They flew on, all of them listening out for sounds they knew would never reach their ears amongst the howls and whistles of the wind.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed. The sky had been dark all day, and when they looked up, all they could see was white and grey, before they had to look down and wipe their eyes from the snowflakes. (y/n)’s fire was growing fainter now, her body heat unable to sustain her powers for much longer. It flickered, and then, as more and more snowflakes melted in her hand, it went out, and the group was enveloped in darkness. Still, they persisted.

Yue eventually spoke. “Don’t worry,” she reassured the group, “Prince Zuko can’t be getting too far in this weather.”

“I’m not worried they’ll get away in the blizzard,” responded Katara. “I’m worried that they won’t.”

Sokka spoke, even in this situation remaining the voice of reason. “They’re not going to die in this blizzard. If we know anything, it’s that Zuko never gives up. They’ll survive, and we’ll find them.”

The group settled back into silence, and flew on. (y/n) didn’t know if minutes passed, or hours, but eventually, Katara turned around. Something that looked like a shooting star streaked past in the sky, and she pointed at it excitedly.

“Look, that’s gotta be Aang! Yip-yip!”

Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later, when light erupted from a nearby cave. Aang had finally returned to the physical world.

Aang woke up, and, immediately, Zuko was thrown into a wall with a gust of air, and Aang flew backwards out of the cave. Still tied up, (y/n) could see him wriggling on the ground, trying to get away. His attempt was futile, as Zuko soon caught up to him, not yet spotting Appa descending from the clouds above.

“That won’t be enough to escape,” he said, but then Aang spotted his friends.

“Appa!” he shouted, and the flying bison landed next to him.

Zuko watched as Katara slid off, and tossed Aang aside.

“Here for a rematch?”

Zuko had spoken too soon. Astonished, he found that his fire blasts were no longer effective against Katara, her own powers strengthened by the full moon glowing in the sky.

“Trust me Zuko, it’s not going to be much of a match,” she said, and she was right. Within a minute, Zuko lay on the ground, unconscious. Immediately, Sokka ran towards Aang to untie him.

“Hey, this is some quality rope!” he exclaimed, relieved that Aang was finally safe. Aang, however, did not share the same sentiments.

“We need to get to the oasis, the spirits are in trouble!” he said, and airbended himself onto his bison. The group was now almost ready to fly off, but then –

“Wait, we can’t just leave him here.”

This was Aang, and the whole group save for (y/n) stared at him, mouths agape at his words.

“Sure we can,” replied Sokka, dumbfounded. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Aang was insistent. “If we leave him he’ll die.”

“Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let’s bring the guy who’s constantly trying to kill us.”

But, despite Sokka’s sarcastic protests, Aang had already retrieved Zuko, and now they were both back on Appa. Zuko lay in the middle of the saddle, eyes closed as if he was asleep, and then Appa took off and they were back in the sky, soaring through the blizzard towards the Northern Water Tribe.

Throughout the events of the last few minutes, (y/n) had stayed quiet. She didn’t dare speak, didn’t even know what to say if she somehow gained the strength to open her mouth. All she knew was that she was incredibly grateful for Aang’s words, his act of kindness towards the very person who’d been trying to kill him since the first day he'd emerged from the iceberg. She looked at Zuko, mind racing with thousands of ‘what if's – what if they hadn’t made it in time? What if Aang hadn’t said anything? What if Katara had disagreed, as well as Sokka? What would have happened to the boy lying in front of her – he _was_ just a boy, only sixteen, too young for this war, too young to be driven to such horrible things by his father and the Fire Nation regime – what would have happened to him if he'd remained out there, knocked out, alone? And, the thought haunted her mind, would _she_ have said anything? Would she have stayed with him? Would she have abandoned her new friends to help him? She didn’t know. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the questions filling her mind. It worried her, frightened her, that she didn’t know.

She’d just succeeded in banishing the thoughts from her mind when a new thing came up to panic about. (y/n) couldn’t quite believe it, but here it was, the harsh reality confirmed by the wide eyes and faint gasps of her friends. The moon had, somehow, with no explanation, turned red. If, on their way to the cave, perception tinted by feelings of desperation and despair, the vast expanse of white had seemed to them to be filled with a hollow hopelessness, the scarlet snow now glinted with danger and evil.

A sense of impending doom filled (y/n), and along with that, a feeling of nausea crept into her stomach, soon followed by a headache. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one.

“Are you okay?” asked Sokka, concerned as Yue grabbed her head in pain.

“I feel faint,” she whispered.

“I feel it too,” said Aang. “The Moon Spirit is in trouble.”

Yue leaned back in the saddle, suddenly understanding what was going on. “I owe the Moon Spirit my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was born,” Yue began, “I was very sick and very weak. Most babies cry when they’re born, but I was born as if I was asleep, my eyes closed. Our healers did everything they could.” She paused, sadness crossing her face. “They told my mother and father I was going to die.”

Sokka looked at her in shock, but Yue didn’t notice, and she continued.

“My father pleaded with the spirits to save me. That night, beneath the full moon, he brought me to the oasis and placed me in the pond. My dark hair turned white… I opened my eyes and began to cry, and they knew I would live. That’s why my mother named me Yue,” she finished. “For the moon.”

The rest of the way to the Spirit Oasis, few words were spoken. Sokka moved over to sit next to Yue, and gripped her hand in his, comforting her. Her eyes watered at the sight of her tribe, the wreckage becoming ever more apparent as Appa made his way towards the ground, and she held on to Sokka tightly, and didn’t object.

(y/n) came down first when Appa landed, closely followed by Zuko's still unconscious body. They hadn’t arrived at the oasis just yet, but, they’d agreed, the group would continue on without her. Someone had to look after Zuko after all, to make sure he didn't attack them again, (y/n) had told the group, and why not her? The Moon Spirit needed the rest of them more that it needed her, anyway. She couldn’t admit to them the real reason, or maybe she just didn’t want to say it out loud. Whatever the case, she’d missed him.

(y/n) really had warmed up to him on the ship, she thought, despite his distaste for her and his overall hostile attitude. She’d grown to like him more than she’d realised, and when she’d seen him at the cave, Aang tied up and in his hands, she hadn’t expected to feel the way she did. A small bit of relief, slight happiness even, _maybe_ – but instead, a mellow heat had flowed through her chest, the feeling of hot chocolate on a winter night, and she was entirely overwhelmed. _What was it about him?_ – she thought, staring at his face. He looked so peaceful now, so innocent… Was it that they’d both been through such hardships, both traumatized kids, trying to build themselves back up after the psychological damage done to them by the Fire Nation? _Maybe_ … the thought swam around in her head. Maybe, but no, there was something else too. Especially here, especially now, some other emotion was present, only just beginning to stir, but still, unmistakably, there. (y/n) didn’t yet know what it was, or why her heart was beating just that little bit faster, why a blush was settling upon her cheeks, why she’d been staring at him for way longer than was considered normal or necessary. But, whatever it was, their faces illuminated by the ruby glare of the moon, she found herself looking at the Prince in an entirely different light, in both senses of the word.

Then, his eyelids fluttered open, and he woke up.

“What… where…” he mumbled, confused at first, and then the world swam into focus, and there was (y/n), and he shot up.

“What are you doing here?” he snarled, “And where is the Avatar?”

“He’s gone…” said (y/n). Zuko's harshness had broken her out of her weird trance, for the moment. “And you’re not going to have him back.”

“What? Like _you’re_ going to stop me.”

“Actually, yes, I am,” said (y/n) getting into a stance. “Your uncle did teach me a thing or two on that ship, after all.”

She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to attack Zuko. But, she reminded herself, she was doing this for Aang, and for the world, and the safety of the world mattered more than any of her personal worries and apprehensions.

Zuko got ready too, fire on his hands and feet ready to light up the night as he started going for a kick, but then, he looked ahead, and (y/n) had vanished. In fact… he looked around once again, then blinked a few times to check he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t. He could still see the area around his hands and feet, but everything else was pitch black. He looked up in horror, and (y/n) did the same, and both of them, at the same time, came to the same terrifying realization. The moon had disappeared from the sky.

“What… what the…”

“The moon…”

All thoughts of fighting disappearing from their heads, they now stood next to each other, faces turned towards the sky. Zuko's fire flickered, and then it was gone, and they didn’t even notice. All they could do was watch, gaze intently at the spot of darkness where the moon had once been, as if that would bring it back. _Bring it back from where?_ thought (y/n). It was gone. Somehow, the moon was _dead_ , and, as the thought hit her, the breath that had been caught in her throat left her all at once.

“What’s wrong?” asked Zuko, fear and surprise having temporarily wiped away his hostility.

“The Moon Spirit. It’s… it’s dead.”

She scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it over her face, as if she was trying to wake up from the nightmare that reality had just become.

“Don’t laugh but… I’m somewhat attuned to the spirit world. That’s how I know.”

“Okay… is there anything I can do?” asked Zuko, but then – _what was he talking about?_ – _of course_ there was nothing he could do, a spirit had died! He mentally smacked himself on the head, and that brought him back to his senses. What was he doing here, anyway? A perfect opportunity had arisen: under the cover of darkness, he could get away and recapture the Avatar, and (y/n) would be too preoccupied with the moon to stop him. This was his chance! – and he would be a fool not to take it.

He'd almost made his first step towards the Spirit Oasis when he heard a voice. It wasn’t (y/n). The voice belonged to an authoritative, middle-aged man, and – he lit up the area to confirm it – it was Zhao.

“You’re alive?”

Zuko wasn’t going to stand around and talk, not after what Zhao had done.

“You tried to have me killed!” he shouted, and rushed headfirst at the Admiral, attacking him with his flames.

“Yes, I did,” admitted Zhao, his voice utterly devoid of remorse. “You’re the Blue Spirit, an enemy of the Fire Nation! You freed the Avatar!”

“I had no choice,” said Zuko as he continued to attack.

Meanwhile, (y/n) stood to the side, not believing her ears. Zuko had helped Aang? So he wasn’t that far from the right path, after all! She smiled, but then, the second realization came, knocking all signs of happiness out of her. _Zhao had tried to kill Zuko._ The explosion, she remembered. So it had all been Zhao’s doing. With that thought, she knew she couldn’t passively observe the fight any longer. She leapt at Zhao, kicking a stream of flame at him, and he, finally noticing her, jumped aside.

“ _You?_ ” He exclaimed in disbelief, in between dodging attacks and throwing punches of his own. As quickly as he had lost it, however, he regained his composure, and turned towards Zuko. “I knew you had some suspicious friends, what with your treacherous uncle, but you’ve somehow managed to surpass even that! A wanted criminal! For the –”

(y/n) cut him off, and before she knew it, fire was swirling around Zhao, lashing at him and making him shut his mouth. _Zuko couldn’t know_ , she thought, and that thought consumed her mind. Azula was his sister, after all. She didn’t know how he'd take the news, and she didn’t want to find out.

After a few seconds of dodging and struggling, Zhao parted the flames, and this time, fire was shooting at (y/n). Still, as he fought, he was addressing Zuko. “You should have chosen to accept your failure – you’re a disgrace. Then, at least, you could have lived!”

Zuko punched a stream of fire at Zhao, but he stepped aside, like it didn’t matter. He’d moved onto a bridge, (y/n) realised, as she took in his movements. He was a strong bender, that was for sure, but could he really hold his own when he was outnumbered?

“Just accept it, Zuko,” Zhao went on. “You’re nothing but a failure. Your father doesn’t love you, and I’d say your face makes that clear enough.”

Dodging and deflecting attack after attack from Zuko's side, Zhao dealt his final blow.

“He wanted you gone, you know. All the way back then, when you were just a child. But he shouldn’t worry. I’ll finish the job for him!”

He leapt forward towards Zuko, but before he could do anything fatal, (y/n) jumped in between them, creating a wall of fire between the two. Zhao parted it with his hands, but (y/n) shot a fireball at his side, and he stumbled and lost his balance.

“You almost killed him!” she yelled, aiming another charge at Zhao. “You monster!”

“Oh, (y/n)…” he said, his voice suddenly nonchalant as he dodged the fire, “If only you knew how hypocritical you were being.”

Flames exploded at Zhao's feet as Zuko fired at him, but Zhao was quick and agile as ever.

“(y/n)…” he shook his head, “We're not that different, you and I.”

Another shot, another crash as fire hit the icy bridge.

“How dare you…” hissed (y/n), but Zhao ignored her.

“How can you fault me for trying to kill Zuko, when only two months ago, you yourself were willing to dirty your hands with the blood of another?”

Zuko stopped in his tracks. “(y – y/n)?” he stuttered.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s lying!” yelled (y/n), but she knew Zuko understood. There was no way she could let Zhao say any more.

“I’m not lying,” he began, but before he could utter another word, (y/n) ran up to him, bursts of fire launching her forward, and then she was right in front of him, about to burn that smug look off his face, and then –

At the last minute, Zhao had stuck his foot out, and (y/n) tripped, falling face first into the ice.

“Good riddance,” he said, kicking her in the head as Zuko looked on in astonishment. “One down. One more left to go.”

As Zuko now took up the defence, trying his best to dive under the streams of fire, (y/n) lay on the icy bridge. The fall, swiftly followed by the kick, had knocked her out. Her last thought before, for the second time that night, the world went black, was a desperate hope that Zuko wouldn’t find out.

A few minutes passed, and Zuko was finding it increasingly harder to keep fighting. Zhao really was strong, and, though he’d defeated him once before, he wasn’t sure he was capable of doing it again. Zhao forced him to always stay alert, to always keep moving, and though his face was flushed with movement, the cold was really starting to have an effect on his bending. Somehow, Zhao was doing just fine, better than before, even, now that (y/n) was out. Zuko looked around, hoping she’d woken up. Whatever her crime, he thought, it could wait. Right now, he could really use her help.

Much to his relief, (y/n) was stirring. One hand lifted her up, and then another, and then – Zuko stared, mouth agape – she turned around, and her eyes were glowing white. _What_ , he thought, _this couldn’t be possible, (y/n) wasn’t the Avatar_ – and yet there she was, a sudden sprint carrying her to the unsuspecting Zhao, her steps jerky as if she was no longer in control of her own body. She stopped directly behind him, and he turned around to look. For a second, surprise flashed across his face – and then… he'd been too slow. His hand reached up to burn (y/n), but she grabbed it in an iron grip, kicking him in the stomach and bringing him to the ground. His other arm immobilized by her foot, (y/n)’s hand reached over to Zhao's face, covering it, and a white light began to radiate from her body. Zuko didn’t know how long he’d stood there, frozen as (y/n) did the deed, hypnotized by the light that was getting brighter by the second – but then the light disappeared, and he heard a crash as (y/n) fell to the floor. Zhao lay still beside her.

Tentatively, Zuko took a step towards Zhao. Had (y/n) _killed_ him? No – _no way_ , he thought, he had to be alive. And, indeed, as his flame illuminated Zhao's chest, he saw its rise and fall, heard the ragged breaths that came from Zhao’s lungs. But that wasn’t all, for, bathed in the orange glow of his hand, Zuko had spotted something much more terrifying. He moved the fire up to Zhao’s head, as if to confirm what he'd seen, despite already knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it was real, and, as he did so, his face filled with horror . Zhao’s pale skin glowed in the light, and that was all it was now – just skin: no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Zuko glanced at (y/n), who was still lying next to Zhao, and stumbled backwards. He didn’t know how, but somehow, it had happened. (y/n) had stolen Zhao’s face.

The blue hand of the Ocean Spirit came and went, and Zuko didn’t notice it. He didn’t notice as the moon came back, and as (y/n) got up, rubbing her eyes and looking around. He sat there, mind blank with shock, and tried to make sense of what had happened. Eventually, (y/n) spoke.

“Um… Zuko, what happened here?”

He didn’t respond.

“Zhao? Where is he? Did you defeat him?”

“No…” he murmured, “You did…”

“I did?”

“Yeah.” He rose to his feet, regaining his senses. “You woke up, except your eyes were glowing, then you knocked Zhao over and you… You stole his face.”

“I. I’m sorry, I _what?_ ”

And then, Roku’s warnings came back to her all at once, and she realized what had happened. Whatever spirit she’d unwillingly channeled at that time… Whatever terrifying entity that was… It was apparently capable of stealing people’s faces. She sighed.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Zuko didn’t speak. (y/n) stood there, waiting for him to say something, but he never did, and so she sat down next to him. The moon was back, she’d noticed with relief, and dawn was already beginning to make its way over the horizon. Her head slowly cleared, and she stood up.

“Zuko… I have to go.”

She didn’t want to say goodbye, but she knew that, now, she had to leave him. Aang had defeated the Fire Nation fleet, it seemed, as fighting could no longer be heard in the distance. She had to join him now – him and Sokka and Katara – it was her duty to the world, and one that meant she’d have to leave Zuko behind.

There were so many things she wanted to say right now. She tried her best to speak, taking a long look at him for the last time, and yet not one of those thoughts formed into a coherent sentence in her head. She opened her mouth – maybe the right words would just find their way out, like they’d done so many times before – but she couldn't make a sound. She’d miss him, she knew that for certain now, she’d miss his eyes, and his rare smiles, and even his angry outbursts, she supposed. She wished she could have helped him more, but what could she do if he wasn’t ready yet? She smiled, a sad smile that caught the tears that fell from her eyes. She hoped he’d be ready soon. She hoped she’d be there for him when the time came. But now… now she'd have to leave him. And so, her mouth opened once again, and all that came out was a soft, bittersweet “Goodbye”.

She walked away, leaving Zuko sat on the bridge, snow crunching beneath her. He looked up, staring at the mysterious girl walking away from him, and the questions swam in his mind. Who was she? What powers did she have? What did Zhao know that he didn’t? But, somehow, none of that mattered. She was leaving, a final goodbye having left her lips minutes ago, and, though he couldn’t explain it to himself, he didn’t want her to leave. He'd wanted to interrogate her, two months ago, and then, he’d wanted to burn her, but now… Now, he just wanted her to stay. He looked on as (y/n) turned a corner, disappearing into the dawn, and a sound finally escaped him.

“Goodbye, (y/n),” he whispered, though she was no longer around to hear it.

* * *

The sun had risen hours ago, and now, Master Pakku, along with Aang, Katara, Sokka and (y/n) were standing on a ledge, overlooking the city.

“I’ve decided to go to the South Pole. Some other benders and healers want to join me,” he said. “It’s time we helped rebuild our sister tribe.

“What about Aang?” asked Katara. “He still needs to learn waterbending.”

“Well,” smiled Pakku. “Then he better get used to calling you _Master_ Katara.”

Chief Arnook and Sokka stood a short distance away, looking at the sky.

“The spirits gave me a vision when Yue was born,” said Arnook. “I saw a beautiful, brave, young woman become the Moon Spirit.” He sighed. “I knew this day would come.”

“You must be proud,” said Sokka.

“So proud… and sad.”

Aang stood nearby, looking out onto the city below, and Katara walked up to him. He turned around, and hugged her.

You too, Momo,” called Katara, seeing the lemur chitter at Aang’s side.

“Come here,” said Aang.

Momo leapt up onto him, and Sokka placed his hand on Aang’s shoulder. (y/n) shuffled awkwardly up to them, not sure if she was welcome.

“And you, (y/n),” added Katara, and (y/n) smiled with relief. “You’re one of us now."

The five of them stood there, looking out onto the ocean and the sky, and Appa flew up in front of them. As they flew off into the clouds, finally letting themselves fall asleep after the long night they’d had, only (y/n) stayed awake, staring out into the horizon. Now, she was truly leaving her old life behind, free from the clutches of the Fire Nation at last. Sure, it had come at a price, she thought, her mind flashing back to Zuko, but at least she had a purpose, and friends, and, for once, she didn’t feel alone. Thinking of the new adventures ahead of her, she drifted off to sleep, the air tickling her face as she lay on Appa’s back, and, finally, she was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, finally, a chapter I can look at without needing eye bleach.


	13. Betrayal

Though the past days had all consisted of nothing but constant travel through both sea and sky, (y/n) hadn’t been bored for a minute of it. She had a lot of catching up to do, and so she sat there, listening for hours on end as her new friends told her everything about the adventures they’d had before the battle at the North Pole. (y/n) herself shared a bit of her time on the ship, as well as everything before that: waking up, her years in the Fire Nation, the death of her parents, Azula, Roku. That made for a significantly more depressing conversation, but hey, (y/n) thought – they would have to find out eventually, and there was no point in keeping secrets now.

As well as that, (y/n) had taken some time to practice bending the other elements – if she was to spend days surrounded by water and air, she might as well make use of it. Her airbending, she was happy to admit, was coming along nicely. Of course, she was nowhere near creating an air scooter, but she could blow herself backwards across short distances and knock some objects over. For now, that was good enough, and anyway, no matter where she went, she would always be surrounded by air – infinite opportunities to develop her skills.

As for water, though… well, that was a different story entirely. It’s not that (y/n) didn’t understand Katara's instructions – far from it – but even so, there was always something inexplicably wrong about (y/n)’s movements, something vaguely _off_ , and even when Katara had corrected (y/n)’s stance, hand movements, balance, _everything_ , more times than she could count, and from Aang and Sokka’s perspective, everything seemed to be perfect – even then, the most (y/n) could manage was a tiny ripple in the surface of the ocean – so small it was debatable it hadn’t been caused by the wind.

However, this didn’t trouble (y/n). Of course _fire_ was easy: Iroh had trained her. Of course _air_ was easy: she was born an Air Nomad. But water? Well, it wasn’t coming now, but it would in time. She knew from her books that _earth_ was the element she'd eventually struggle with the most, after all. With that in mind, she never got discouraged when it came to waterbending practice, and tried to copy Katara’s movements and flow as much as possible, no matter how much she fell behind Aang.

The evenings after waterbending sessions were always the nicest, anyway. Aang would blow them all dry, and then they’d sit on deck, eating dinner and gazing off into the night, excited whispers pointing out constellations, sipping tea until Sokka's jokes made them laugh so hard they spat it out. The ocean breeze was cool against their skin, but the blankets covering their legs were soft and warm, and the gentle rocking of the ship would nearly put them to sleep until someone came to their senses and dragged the rest of the group to their cabins. It was nights like these that really made (y/n)’s new surroundings seem like home.

Nights on Appa were different. The same gusts of wind brought goosebumps to their bodies, the same tea, the same blankets warmed them up in the chill of the night, but, as rivers, forests, and villages the size of pinpricks rushed past them, sleep was the last thing on anyone’s minds. They didn’t look to the stars those nights, though they felt so close they were practically an arm's reach away; instead, their eyes were trained on a different kind of light – the kind that streamed from shipyards and shacks and shop windows. At first, right after dinner, their conversation would be loud and full of laughter, but then the sky would turn dark and the moon would fade back into existence. Sokka would always look straight down when that happened, too close to the sky to ignore the memories like he did in the ocean, and so his witty remarks would cease, and the conversation would die down until everyone woke up the next day, sun high and beating down on them with the hot rays of noon.

It was a strange time, after the battle. For (y/n), though she thought she knew enough about the realities of war before, it was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. It was one thing to hear about it from others, another to witness fragments of people’s destroyed lives, but to actually see a real battle with hundreds of warships, with real armies and real deaths? That was on a whole other level. Aang, Sokka and Katara were more familiar with this by now, but even they were shaken up, and, though the Northern Water Tribe had won a decisive victory, their joy was not untainted by feelings of sadness and loss. Sokka had lost Yue… Katara had almost lost Aang, and he'd almost lost her too. It _had_ mostly ended well, but it was still a lot to take in, and they all just wanted to get to Omashu as soon as possible so they’d have something else to think about. So, when Sokka finally spotted their destination, having for once woken up earlier than the others in the morning, everyone was understandably relieved.

“There it is!” he shouted, and the others shot up immediately, all traces of drowsiness disappearing from their minds. It wasn’t quite Omashu, but it was close enough, and as Appa descended towards the military base where Master Pakku had instructed them to go, everyone was filled with relief. (y/n) stared as the buildings got bigger below her, as vague people-shaped blobs began to appear scattered in-between, and then, a minute later, she could make out their faces, and their voices were close enough to reach her ears despite the roar of the wind. Appa’s feet touched the ground, and (y/n) rubbed the sleep from her eyes and dismounted. It felt good to finally be back on solid ground.

General Fong, accompanied by several dozens of soldiers, was already waiting for them.

“Welcome, Avatar Aang!” he said, while everyone was still stretching after the long ride. “I am General Fong, and welcome, to all of you great heroes! Appa, Momo, brave Sokka! The mighty Katara…” he stopped suddenly, trailing off as he saw the latest addition to Team Avatar. He didn’t know that a fourth person would be arriving, and, to be honest, he didn’t really know who she was.

“(y/n). Just (y/n) is fine.”

“And (y/n)! We are so pleased to have you all here!”

The colorful sparks of fireworks erupted in the sky, loud bangs and beautiful lights making everyone forget the awkwardness of the past few seconds.

“Not bad, not bad", remarked Sokka, and then they were all escorted to a discussion room inside the base. All pleasantries aside, General Fong sat down, and the real conversation began.

“Avatar Aang, we were all amazed at the stories of how you singlehandedly wiped out an entire Fire Navy fleet at the North Pole. I can’t imagine what it feels like to wield such devastating power. It’s an awesome responsibility.”

“I try not to think about it too much,” he said.

“Avatar, you’re ready to face the Fire Lord now.”

“What?” the casual smile on Aang’s face immediately turned into shock. “No I’m not!”

“Aang still needs to master all four elements,” reasoned Katara.

“Why? With the kind of power he possesses, power enough to destroy hundreds of battle ships in a matter of minutes, he could defeat the Fire Lord now!”

“But sir, the thing is, Aang can only do those things when he's in the Avatar State.”

“See,” began Aang, “It’s this special state where –”

“I’m well aware! Your eyes and tattoos glow and you’re able to summon unbelievable power. Without you, we’d be slaughtered before we even reach the shores. But with you leading the way, as the ultimate weapon, we could cut a swath right through to the heart of the Fire Nation.”

Aang looked on doubtfully as Fong pointed at the large map spread out in front of him. “Right, but, I don’t know how to get in or out of the Avatar State, much less what to do once I’m there.”

“So, it’s decided then,” said Fong. “I’ll help you figure out how to get into the Avatar State and then you’ll face your destiny”

“No, nothing’s decided.” Katara stood up angrily. “We already have a plan. Aang’s pursuing his destiny _his_ way.”

“Well, while you take your time learning the elements, the war goes on. May I show you something?” He led Aang to a window, and, though (y/n) couldn’t see from the other side of the room, his words explained everything. “That’s the infirmary, and those soldiers are the lucky ones. They came back. Every day, the Fire Nation takes lives. People are _dying_ , Aang! You could end it, _now_. Think about it.”

Aang averted his eyes. He already felt responsible enough for running away all those years ago, for letting the war break out while he was frozen in an iceberg. And now, he was awake, but the war was still going on, and seeing all those people out there, injured and suffering and _dying_ because he still wasn’t doing anything… It was all too much. He couldn’t stand by and do nothing, not again.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but in his mind, the decision was already made.

As the four of them left the room and were led away to lunch, (y/n)’s mind raced with thoughts. What General Fong had said about Aang at the North Pole… She'd always assumed that the battle was mainly won by the tribe itself, waterbenders finally pushing back against Zhao's troops under the wise leadership of Chief Arnook. She knew Aang had made a difference of course, but to think he did this much? She hadn’t seen Aang at all after she was dropped off with Zuko that night, and, though she'd heard her friends talk about the victory, Aang had been too humble to mention he'd wiped out _the whole entire fleet_. _By himself._ And if all it took for Aang to access such incredible power was entering the Avatar State… Well then, in (y/n)’s mind, there was no other option.

Fong had been right: people were fighting every day, each person dead on the battlefield a sacrifice to their nation’s independence, to the right to live a life of freedom and peace, the right for their people to choose their own destiny, regardless of what the Fire Nation wanted. That country had done enough, thought (y/n), tens of thousands of lives already lost, still more destroyed, all because of their heartless imperialism, their disgusting idea of national superiority… As if the water, earth and air that ran through the blood of other nations made it any more deserving of being spilled.

No, she thought, all of this couldn’t go on. Aang should master the Avatar State, and then all these horrors of war would be over.

* * *

Zuko sat on the ground, finally having found a village after three weeks of floating in the ocean. By all means, he should have been happy, or at least relieved that he could finally eat some proper food, change into clean and comfortable clothes, drink water that didn’t make his throat burn from the salt… But there was no happiness for him without the Avatar, and, as usual, he’d managed to mess everything up. Aang had been so close, tied up and in a cave, and they were out in the middle of nowhere, raging blizzard covering his tracks. That night was supposed to have been his moment… But, of course, everything had gone wrong and they were discovered, and Katara defeated him without breaking a sweat, and then Zhao had showed up before he’d managed to slip away from (y/n). The end result was, he'd failed again, just like at the South Pole, just like on Kyoshi Island, just like all the other times where the Avatar had been so, so close, but still managed to escape. He'd _failed_. Just like in that war meeting three years ago, when he was banished. And back then, the consequences had been disastrous.

Three years ago…. The Agni Kai…

It felt like it was yesterday.

He'd been so confident the night before the duel, so certain that the old General he’d spoken out against was no match for him. Even as he entered the designated room, eyes of hundreds of people trained on his fragile, thirteen year old self, he hadn’t allowed his confidence to falter. And then… the opponent was revealed, and it had been his own father.

The rest was a blur.

He remembered himself begging, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. His voice coming out small and shaky, his father’s footsteps: decisive, heavy, beating against the floor like a drum. His pleas, his apologies, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The light... And for a second, he remembered, neither eye was able to see, and all he knew was the pain was _excruciating_ , and he couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel the floor he knelt on, whole world vanishing into nothing and all that was left was the pain.

The pain didn’t subside, but his other senses returned anyway, gradually, one by one. He opened his right eye, and the world swam into focus, and the room was now dark but that was good, and the eye stung less with no light. He felt his legs on the ground, and then his arms, and he realised he'd fallen over. Then, the murmur of voices sounded in the distance, which was fine at first, but then it got louder and louder until every twitch, every shuffle, every whispered word rang like clashing, clanging bells in his ears, and then he stumbled to his feet and _he had to get out_. And his legs refused to move at first, first numb, then heavy, then paralyzed, and then he was by the door and it was gone and he was running, misery and muscle memory carrying him to his room, where he collapsed onto the bed and all he could think about was the _pain_. Of course, it burned, but it was more than that: an intense, scraping feeling, being stabbed by thousands of needles at once, salt and lemon in a wound, skin being torn off to the bone with a rusty fork. It felt like knives, fresh blood, the color red transforming into white. And amongst it all, the smell of burning flesh pervading everything, even that old cushion he'd kept that smelled like his mother.

He didn’t want to look in the mirror, but he knew eventually that he’d have to, and so, slowly, he inched out of his bed and his shaking legs brought him to the bathroom. His other eye widened to twice its size when he saw it, because it was _bad_. The left side of his face was red, covered with blisters, oozing some strange liquid that would hurt too much to wipe off. The right side of his face was wet too, but here, the liquid was unmistakably tears. He scowled at his reflection, mentally yelling at himself to stop. He had already shown shameful weakness. As well as an idiot and a disgrace and a failure, he wasn’t a crybaby. He _wasn’t_. And yet, the tears kept flowing.

Years of firebending lessons had taught him that, in the case of a training accident, he should make a beeline for the nearest bathroom and run the injury under cold water. He hadn’t remembered that at first, but now the thoughts came back to him. There was cold water right there, if he would just let it flow onto his face… but no. He couldn’t do that. This burn was his punishment, discipline his father had been forced to give him because his stupid self couldn’t keep his mouth shut and show respect, and any attempts to ease the pain would go against his father’s message. The water was cool, and clear, and welcoming and inviting and he _needed_ it, and anyway, he was thirsty and his head was swimming with dehydration – but touching the water would be shameful and weak and he couldn’t be _weak;_ his father had rightfully punished him and he _had_ to bear the burden. And so, he left the water flowing and returned to his room.

It came to him that he was _banished_ , and that meant he had to leave. That meant he had to pack his bags, and he had to start now. Technically, the words of his father only just coming back to him – a quiet, distant echo drowned out by his scream – he'd _screamed,_ shown weakness, he realised, how _shameful_ – technically, he had tomorrow to pack. But that didn’t matter. He couldn’t stay here any longer. He took a bag, tossed clothes, shoes, books, toys, everything he saw into it – and then he emptied it out and started over, this time bringing only the bare necessities. As he was nearly finished, his vision fell on a razor. _That’s right_ , he thought, his _hair._

Again, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He knew well that it was customary for losers of an Agni Kai to shave parts of their head to symbolize humility from their defeat. As a child, he'd secretly felt bad for them, their shame exposed for the world to see. Not anymore. He deserved it, and so did the rest of them. And so, his hair fell into the basin, hesitant hands clutching the razor until only the topknot remained, trying his hardest not to touch his face.

When he was almost finished, he heard the bathroom door burst open, and he looked up as Iroh’s face appeared in the mirror. His face was flushed, and he was out of breath, and his eyes were filled with concern. Their eyes found each other in the clear glass, and even then, Zuko couldn’t bear to meet Iroh’s gaze. There was _pity_ in it, no doubt, and he couldn’t bear to see that. _Pity_ was reserved for people who’d had something unfair and tragic happen to them, like Lu Ten, or Iroh himself, or Mother. But him? He was the cause of his own suffering, and he didn’t deserve any looks but cold glances, any words but “I told you so.” He didn’t deserve care, or support, and most definitely not pity.

At least Iroh hadn’t spoken back then, tried to hide his shock and fear and sympathy, tried to stop his mouth from hanging open and his eyes from filling with tears. He knew that Zuko needed his wound cleaned, first of all, and then some water that wasn’t too cold, and a good, long drink. And he needed bandages, too, and looks that expressed anything other than the emotions he was feeling right now. And so, he pushed it down, and Zuko didn’t protest as Iroh worked tirelessly to treat the burn that they both already knew would leave a huge, lifelong scar.

The next day, when dawn was only just breaking on the horizon, they both set off, and the pain of Zuko's burn could be rivaled by nothing except the knowledge that his own father considered him a failure, and that his father was right.

“I see. It’s the anniversary, isn’t it?”

Iroh's words broke him out of his memories. Evidently, Uncle had finished his massage.

“Three years ago today, I was banished. I lost it all.” He looked up at Iroh, the urge to avoid his uncle’s gaze having passed years ago. “I want it back. I want the Avatar, I want my honor, my throne. I want my father not to think I’m worthless.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” comforted Iroh. “Why would he banish you if he didn’t care?”

Zuko scowled, getting up and beginning to walk away. Somehow, that thought was even worse.

* * *

(y/n) was trying her hardest to fall asleep, and so was the rest of the group, but their recent habit of late nights and later mornings weren’t exactly helping. She opened her eyes, and looked around, only to realize Aang was gone. But, before she could wonder where on earth he was, and most importantly, how he'd disappeared without anyone noticing, the door swung open and Aang was there.

“I told the general I’d help him by going into the Avatar State.”

“That’s great, Aang! –” started (y/n), but Katara shot her a look so dirty that she couldn’t say another word out of shock.

“Aang, no! This is not the right way!”

“Why not?” asked Sokka. “Remember when he took out the Fire Navy? He was incredible!”

“There’s a right way to do this. Practice, study, and discipline!”

“Or just glow it up and stop that Fire Lord!” joked Sokka.

“But, seriously.” Recovering from her momentary paralysis, (y/n) rejoined the conversation. “Katara, you were at the North Pole. You _saw_ how people were dying. How everything was being destroyed. And Aang could stop all that, just by going into the Avatar State! Don’t you see how many lives this will save?”

Katara rose from her bed in frustration. “If you three meat heads want to throw away everything we’ve worked for, fine, go ahead and glow it up! And (y/n)?” she said, pausing as she walked away, “I don’t need you to tell me about death. My own mother was killed by the Fire Nation. Even so, I can understand that forcing Aang into the Avatar State is not the right way to do this.”

“Katara, I’m just being realistic! I don’t have time to do this the right way!” protested Aang, but it was useless. Katara was already gone.

* * *

The following day, Zuko and Iroh were preparing to leave. The search for the Avatar had to continue, so they couldn’t afford to linger in one place for too long. They were packing now, or at least they were supposed to be, but Iroh was completely absorbed in the shells laid out on the table in front of him.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” he exclaimed, picking up a conch. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come!”

Zuko frowned. His uncle really didn’t seem to be taking this too seriously.

“We don’t need any more useless things! You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now!”

It was true; their ship was gone. Zuko had no idea how he was going to find the Avatar on foot, but if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that the less he had to carry, the better. At least Iroh was with him, even if the crew was gone, but at this rate… His uncle was proving himself to be less a help, and more a hindrance. If only there was some other way out of this situation… And then, a voice came from the dark corners of the room that Zuko hadn’t heard in years, and, unwillingly, he felt shivers down his spine.

“Hello, brother. Uncle,” said Azula, her voice calm and calculated as ever. How had she found them? And, more importantly – what did she want?

“What are you doing here?”

She held up a shell in her hand, unfazed by Zuko’s angry tone as he asked the question.

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” She rose and walked towards the pair, and Zuko simmered quietly in his spot. _My country_ , she’d said. Had she forgotten it was his country too? And, on top of that: “Have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

His childhood nickname. A reminder of simpler days, except when it came to his sister, nothing had ever been simple.

“Don’t call me that!” he shouted, already knowing that Azula wouldn’t listen.

“To what do we owe this honor?”

“Hmmm… must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” The shell she was holding crumbled between her fingers, and a look of anger flashed through Iroh’s eyes. Even so, Azula quickly put all formalities aside. “I’ve come with a message from home. Father’s changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumors of plans to overthrow him, treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust.” She paused. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.”

Zuko stopped dead in his tracks. Had Azula really said that…? His father wanted him back? No way; it was too good to be true. And yet, he _wanted_ to believe it, and, for once, he found sincerity in Azula's voice, notes of kindness and gentle understanding he'd last heard when she was five, when she was still too young for their father to really pay attention to her. Their father… and why else would Azula have come all this way? – he reasoned, – why else would she be telling him this? It’s not like she had anything to gain by bringing him to the Fire Nation….

“Did you hear me?” said Azula, clearly annoyed to be met with silence. “You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.”

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment,” said Iroh, and he was right. Azula, of course, didn’t want his opinion. She'd never liked him, thought Zuko, not since he’d given her that doll on her sixth birthday party. She’d stared at it, then set it on fire, and it burned brighter than the candles on her cake, and only then had Father looked at her with approval, his smile wider than anything he'd ever offered to Zuko. Ever since then, she hadn’t been the same.

“I still haven’t heard my thank you.” Azula turned to Zuko now, still annoyed, still not realising that this wasn’t the kind of news you just dropped on someone out of the blue and expected them to be fine. “I’m _not_ a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Father regrets? He… wants me back?”

Hearing the words come from his mouth surprised him even more. Could it really, honestly be true? Life had always been so hard on him, had it finally decided to turn his luck around? Did Father really regret it? He looked at Azula, and her face softened.

“I can see you need time to take this in. I’ll come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

No. She wasn’t lying. Her voice was too caring, too sympathetic for that. And, though his mind had really been made up from the beginning, he now made the conscious choice to trust his sister. Because, despite his failures, his father _did_ love him. He regretted his actions, he missed his son, _he wanted him back_. He smiled, and the air seemed suddenly to him to be fresher, the sky bluer and the sun brighter. His banishment was over. He was going _home_.

* * *

(y/n) lay down in her bed after yet another eventful day. They’d tried so many things today to try and bring on the Avatar State, from chi-enhancing tea (that had only made Aang zoom around on his air scooter like a toddler after too much desert), to dressing Aang up in the traditional clothes of all four nations (which had ended in everyone being thoroughly covered in mud). None of it had worked, and it was all starting to look like a hopeless situation. And yet, thought (y/n), tossing around in her bed that seemed too warm for her, they couldn’t give up hope. The Avatar State had to be triggered by _something_ , she reasoned. Maybe Roku would know? But then again, contacting him was an issue… She sighed. She couldn’t chicken out when so much was at stake. If Aang didn’t figure out the Avatar State in another day, she decided, she would take matters into her own hands and knock herself out, somehow. But for now… Well, hopefully one of Fong's methods would prove successful, and it wouldn’t have to come to that.

She sat up, still unable to fall asleep, and was about to leave the room for a bit of fresh air when Aang and Katara came in. As before, she hadn’t realised either of them were gone. She quickly lay back down, not wanting to start a conversation at this hour. Especially not about the Avatar State.

She listened as they settled down onto their beds, the scuffle of their clothes and sheets a comforting background noise to her thoughts, and eventually, she calmed down and fell asleep.

* * *

“We’re going home!” exclaimed Zuko, packing his belongings as night fell. “After three long years, it’s unbelievable!”

He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time, and by now, having had the afternoon to think, he was past the point of doubt for Azula's words. The same could unfortunately not be said for his uncle.

“It _is_ unbelievable,” said Iroh, staring thoughtfully out of the window. “I have never known my brother to regret anything.”

“Did you listen to Azula? Father’s realized how important family is to him! He cares about me!”

Maybe his father didn’t regret _much_ , thought Zuko, but there was a first time for everything. Azula had been telling the truth. Ugh, why did his uncle always have to be so pessimistic?

Iroh turned to face Zuko, holding his arms out. “ _I_ care about you! And if Ozai wants you back, well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

“You don’t know how my father feels about me,” snapped Zuko, “You don’t know anything!”

If his uncle really cared, he thought, why would he be trying to convince him that his own father didn’t want him back? He didn’t really care… he was just jealous. Yeah, that was it – it had to be.

“Zuko, I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you are exactly what you seem. A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who’s always been jealous of his brother!”

Zuko walked away, leaving Iroh alone in the room, looking on sadly at his nephew’s silhouette retreating into the night. Already, Zuko felt bad for his unkind words, but he wasn’t going to come back and apologize now, not after what his uncle had said. If he was so intent on distrusting Azula, thought Zuko, – fine. He could stay here, in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere, living out a lazy life of tea and Pai Sho and massages. Meanwhile, Zuko would return to the Fire Nation, honor restored, relationship with his father mended. And if that happened, he’d miss his uncle, _of course_ he would, but his father, his sister, his country… those came before anything else.

* * *

In the middle of the night, (y/n) awoke, sitting up at the sound of Aang calling for Sokka.

“Huh?” Sokka responded, still half asleep.

“I don’t think we should be trying to bring on the Avatar State,” said Aang.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.” The protest left her mouth before she could stop it, though it wasn’t like she wanted to remain silent in this situation. Still, her voice was louder than she'd intended it to be, and was met with the shuffling of blankets from the direction of Katara, who was still fighting to remain asleep.

“Why not?” murmured Sokka, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, “Aang’s the Avatar. Who knows better than him?”

“Well, Sokka, I thought _you_ at least knew better,” she snapped.

“Whoa there (y/n), what’s gotten into you? It’s up to Aang to decide whether or not he wants to do it.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean he’s making the right choice.” She turned to Aang now, eyes a mixture of pleading and frustration. “You saw it yourself, yesterday. People are dying in this war, Aang, and they need _your_ help. Fong was right – you can’t wait around when so many lives are at stake!”

“I thought so too, (y/n),” said Aang, voice quiet with thought. “But this isn’t the right way. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.”

“Hard? For _you_?” She paused, suddenly aware of how horrible that came off. “Sorry, I mean… I guess it _isn’t_ an easy choice… But then, you’re not on the front lines, Aang. You don’t know what it’s like, and neither do I, but it must be awful, to risk your life every day, to watch all your friends die, to watch village after village burn down as you’re forced to retreat. It has to stop, and you’re the only one who can make it happen.”

“(y/n), _you_ need to stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” A new voice joined them, its icy determination ringing out amongst the others' whispers. They all looked up to see that their talking had awoken Katara. She continued: “I’m going to explain this _one last time_ , once and for all, since _some people_ just can’t seem to get it. It’s up to Aang. He’s made the right choice. He will master the four elements, and _then_ he’ll fight the Fire Lord. _There_. That’s final.”

(y/n) groaned in frustration. It was Katara who didn’t seem to get it, she thought. Didn’t she see how urgent this was? Didn’t _anyone_ here understand _anything_?

“You all keep telling me this isn’t the right way. Well then, pray tell, what _is_? Waiting around until Aang masters the elements? Um, hello! – Sozin's Comet is coming! We can’t afford to waste all that time! But no, we’re going to sit around and wait all this time because of… _what_ exactly? Moral hang-ups?”

“Moral hang-ups? _Moral hang-ups?”_ interrupted Katara, now fuming at (y/n)’s… heartlessness? Stupidity? She couldn’t quite tell which one it was, but it was definitely some mixture of both. “Your friend has had nightmares _every single night_ since the North Pole, nightmares of himself in the Avatar State! You have no right to talk since you haven’t seen him when he’s like that, but _I have_.”

“Katara–”

“No, Aang, she needs to hear this. Can you even imagine the pain he's in, (y/n), every time he’s like that? The desperation that pushes him to it, the guilt he feels afterwards, not knowing if he hurt someone? And you have the audacity to talk about it all as if it didn’t matter, as if _your friend_ didn’t matter. I wonder, is he even your friend then?”

“Wh– what– yes!” sputtered (y/n). “But all it takes from him is _one_ bad day, _one_ Avatar State, and the Fire Lord is defeated for good! Because every day we sit around waiting, Fire Nation troops advance further and further into the Earth Kingdom! Are we really going to sit around and let that happen? Let them get away with it all?”

“(y/n), we wouldn’t be sitting around, we’d be–” began Aang, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I see what this is all about.” Katara said, voice lowering to a cold whisper. “Letting them get away with it. So it’s all about _revenge_ for you, huh?”

“What– no, this– it’s…” (y/n) stopped. _Was_ it about revenge? Had it been that, all along?

Not giving (y/n) any more time to think, Katara continued. “No wonder you’re so quick to throw your friends under the bus. Friendship was never important to you, anyway. All you want is to get back at the people who hurt you, and Aang is just a tool to achieve that.”

“No– that’s– he’s more than–”

“You know, (y/n), for all your talk about hating the Fire Nation… Right now, you’re behaving just like one of them.”

The room was dead silent, and (y/n) couldn’t find anything to say to that. Of course, most of what Katara has said was just angry words she didn’t mean, not really, and of course she did genuinely care about Aang, but… Revenge. That stuck with her – was that really all she had wanted? And, what if it was? – thought (y/n), tossing and turning in her bed until the birds began to sing in the distance, until the first rays of dawn filtered in through the curtains. What if it _was_ revenge? What would be so wrong and terrible about that? Sure, it didn’t _sound_ like a particularly noble cause, but real life wasn’t that black and white – not sunshine and rainbows and cute animal smiles. Her mind flashed back to the crimes of the Fire Nation: her people, herself, _her parents_. She had a right to be angry. _So what_ if it was revenge? – she thought, finally at peace with herself as she drifted off. She felt completely justified.

* * *

The sun shone brightly the next morning, making the ocean shimmer as the waves rolled gently in the breeze. Zuko looked down at the bay where Azula’s ship was docked, his mind filling with thoughts of his country. He’d see it all again… just a few days on the ship, and he’d be there, and everything in his life was going well, for once. Still, it felt like something was missing. He looked away, adjusting his bag and continued down the long staircase that stood between him and his ticket to the Fire Nation. A few seconds later, quick footsteps sounded in the distance.

“Wait,” shouted Iroh, running down the stairs towards his nephew, “Don’t leave without me!”

Zuko smiled, setting down his bags, and turned to face Iroh. “Uncle! You've changed your mind!” he exclaimed, and his smile was one of genuine happiness, for once, and the ‘something missing’ feeling was gone.

“Family sticks together, right?” said Iroh, laying a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. _Just like Father used to_ , thought Zuko, remembering the days of his childhood. His father hadn’t been the Fire Lord back then, hadn’t been bogged down with so many responsibilities, and they’d spent more time together as a family. Well, he thought, he wouldn’t have to rely on memories alone anymore. He was going to see his father again, and everything would be back to how it was back then; back to normal. His face lit up at the thought, and he looked once again at Iroh, happy to have his uncle returning with him. He smiled.

“We’re finally going home!”

* * *

“The thing is, I don’t think we'll ever be able to trigger it on purpose. So I guess that’s it.”

Aang had just finished explaining the previous night’s decision to Fong, and, while Sokka looked on contentedly, (y/n) was still disappointed. She'd calmed down after a bit of sleep, and she supposed Katara _had_ had a point last night, but, in (y/n)’s mind, going into the Avatar State was still worth the sacrifice. She only wished she’d contacted Roku sooner… but no, now Aang was set on defeating the Fire Lord the “traditional" way, and nothing more could be done.

“You sure I can’t change your mind?” asked Fong. (y/n) sighed. Of course he couldn’t.

“I’m sure,” confirmed Aang. “I can only reach the Avatar State when I’m in genuine danger.”

“I see. I was afraid you’d say that.”

And then, before (y/n) knew it, the whole desk Fong had just been standing behind was flying at Aang, and he was sent soaring across the room. What on earth was going on – weren’t these people meant to be friendly?

“Aang!” yelled Sokka, rushing to his aid, but two soldiers restrained him, and Aang, closely followed by the desk, flew out of the window.

As more soldiers moved to hold (y/n) back, she stood still, the suddenness of it all paralyzing her. It still didn’t line up in her head – Master Pakku had instructed them to come here, and surely _he_ wouldn’t have wanted any harm to come to the Avatar? So maybe – were these all Fire Nation spies? No. They were all earthbenders – impossible. Then _what_?

“Men! Attack the Avatar!” shouted Fong, looking down at Aang from the hole in the wall the desk had created, and then he jumped down. Well, whatever was going on, (y/n) had to step in. Flames heated up on her hands, causing the soldiers to release her as they jumped back in pain – no serious burns, just a little stung.

“Sokka!” she shouted, running towards him. He didn’t need her help. His feet crashed into the earthbenders, and they both yelped and fell to the ground, and then, Sokka was free.

As both of them started running down the stairs to Aang, (y/n) once again heard the boom of General Fong’s voice. It was sly now, calculating, completely devoid of aggression.

“I believe we’re about to get results.”

And then, (y/n) knew what was happening. Fong wasn’t a traitor, and Aang wasn’t in any real danger. All of this was just a ploy, a manipulation to make Aang believe he was in danger – then, and only then, would he finally enter the Avatar State. Though (y/n) followed Sokka down the stairs, her intention was no longer to join the fighting. She’d just watch, and hope that this method would work, at least. It was harsh, that was true, and she wasn’t sure if she approved of something this radical… But at least nobody was _really_ getting hurt, right?

* * *

They’d finally made their way down the stairs and were about to board the ship. Azula stood quietly, waiting for them. Royal Procession guards stood on either side of the walkway as they approached the ship, and Zuko smiled in excitement. It was finally happening. Three years of aimless searching, constant failures, bitter cold and stale food had finally come to an end, and he was about to set sail for the Fire Nation. His sister smiled back at him, her face a sincere expression of love and care for the first time in years.

“Brother! Uncle! Welcome!” She greeted them kindly, as if she too had missed them for all that time they’d spent away. Zuko had never known her to miss anyone, not even Mother, but now... She’d changed as well, then, he thought, changed for the better. The memories of his childhood came back for a brief second: messing around with the turtle-ducks, laughing at Lu Ten’s jokes, holidays on Ember Island. That was the life he was about to return to… How he’d missed it. How he’d missed all of it.

“Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?” asked the captain. Zuko was ready. So, so ready.

“Set out course for home, Captain.”

“Home…”

How good it felt to call the Fire Nation home again. How good it felt to finally feel like he _had_ a home. He followed the Captain up the ramp, Iroh by his side, walking slowly, taking it all in.

“You heard the princess!” said the Captain. “Raise the anchors!” – They were about to depart. His heart beat fast in his chest, it was _happening_ , finally happening… “We’re taking the prisoners home!”

And then, his heart stopped.

 _What._ Prisoners?

 _What_ – _No._

No, no, _no_ , it _had_ to be a slip up. After all, this ship _was_ mainly used to transport prisoners, right? That’s right, that’s all it was – it had to be. He looked up at Azula for confirmation, expecting her to laugh it off, to do something, _anything_ but this. Her face froze in surprise. Then, fury crept into her features, and all at once he knew.

It had all been a trick.

They were nothing but _prisoners_.

_His father didn’t want him back._

He didn’t hear the nervous whimpers of the Captain as he rushed forward at Azula, throwing anyone in his way into the ocean.

“You lied to me!” he yelled, but Azula’s smug, confident smile didn’t falter.

“Like I’ve never done that before.”

She walked away, turning her back on him, like she’d always done and _how could she do that to him,_ how dare she! Two guards moved to the place where she’d just been, shooting fire blasts at Zuko, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to waste his time messing around with _them_. He deflected their attacks with ease, and charged onto the ship.

He took out those guards with his own firebending a few seconds later. They hit the water, but Zuko was too far gone to hear the splashes, to hear Iroh calling for him to leave. Azula was such a short distance away, and her back was turned, and this was a perfect opportunity. His fists lighting up with fire, he charged at Azula, believing for a second that he could actually land a hit – but of course, he couldn’t, and she effortlessly dodged the blow, and the next, and the next. _How could she have lied to him like that!_ There was that smirk again, that sick, depraved smirk, and she kept avoiding all his attacks, and he could do nothing about it. _She’d always been better than him._

_“Born lucky”_

…

_“Lucky to be born.”_

His father’s words echoed in his mind, over and over again. Azula had always been better than him at firebending, at _everything_. She’d reached such heights, her life a story of achievement after achievement – perfect mastery of her element, bending her fire to be blue. And now, she stood, looking down at his pathetic figure from the peak of her success, taunting him, lying to him, _laughing_ at him, as if his pain was nothing but a cheap amusement.

 _Did she even realize the meaning of what she’d said?_ – thought Zuko, still attacking insistently, not allowing himself to accept that his blows were futile. If he was to be considered a prisoner now – what did that mean? It could only mean one thing. _It meant that Father had given up on him._ But no – he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , think that, and so he pushed the thought from his mind. This was all Azula’s doing. Just her botched attempts at a prank, at sibling rivalry, or maybe she legitimately did want him to suffer – he didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was this: The plan was entirely Azula’s, and Father had nothing to do with it.

Meanwhile, Azula was still dodging, twisting and turning tirelessly, as if she didn’t even consider him worthy enough to attack. Why couldn’t he land a single hit? Iroh had been training him for three whole years on his journey, and he was older than Azula, anyway, so why did flame after flame shoot right past her, heating up the space where she’d just been less than a second ago, but nothing more? Not a single one of her hairs was singed, and her balance was impeccable as her body moved into all sorts of positions to avoid the fire. But then – _finally!_ – he did something right, and Azula could no longer evade him! – but before he could so much as heat up her clothes, she pushed him away. He stood there, breathless, as Azula glared at him, that same smirk never having left her lips. She spoke, and her voice was sharp and threatening, all traces of its former kindness having left it as quickly as they had come.

“You know, Father blames Uncle for the loss of the North Pole.” – _What? That hadn’t been Uncle's fault in the slightest, it was all that stupid, conceited Zhao!_ – but Azula continued before he could protest – “And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar! Why would he want _you_ back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?”

Zuko's face fell.

No.

_No._

No way.

Her words were impossible, it couldn’t be! – it was all _her_ doing, all of it! The mantra he'd repeated to himself since the early years of his childhood came back to him: Azula always lies, Azula always lies, _Azula always lies!_ And Iroh had been lying last night too, when he’d said Father never regretted anything, and (y/n), back then on the ship, she'd been lying too, and his father _did_ love him, and they’d all been lying! They were all liars – all of them – and so he jumped back into his stance and the flames blazed once more at his fingers.

He leapt into the air, foot sending a fire blast at Azula– that should show her not to lie to him! – but she jumped away and landed safely on the deck, and the fire once again missed her completely. She moved back into position, and he charged, aiming more and more blows her way, but she twisted away from every single one of them. And then – her fingernails scraped his forehead as he was turned away, mid-spin for an attack, and he fell back a bit, then swiftly regained his balance. It didn’t hurt at all. He continued to fight.

They fought their way up the staircase to the central control area of the ship, both sides sticking to the same techniques as before: Zuko attacking somewhat aimlessly, no plan or strategy in mind, fueled by pure anger, denial and pain; Azula not attacking at all, thinking, waiting. The right moment to strike hadn’t presented itself yet, and she was above some silly brawl. And then – she reached the top of the stairs and Zuko was a bit below her – now, the time was right. He brought his fist up to hit her with his flames, and, before he knew what had happened, she was holding onto his arm, and he couldn’t move.

Time stopped. The siblings stood still on top of the stairs, silently staring at each other. For the first time since the words had slipped from the Captain’s mouth, Zuko got a good look at Azula’s face, and now, he saw it fully: her eyebrows arched and drawn together in cold malice, her mouth no longer a smirk, but a calculated smile, the dangerous glimmer in her eyes.

That’s how he knew. For once, her face was too still and triumphant for it to all have been a lie.

She had the upper hand, and she was better, stronger, more powerful than him, and he was an idiot, a lost cause, and a failure, and then blue flames shot from Azula’s hands and he was falling down the stairs.

The landing was rough, and his vision blurred with the impact. As the world swam into focus, he saw Azula moving above him, the air around her crackling with a bright white light. _What was that?_ – he thought, but then again, did he care? Not really. Not now that he knew, now that he'd finally opened his eyes to the one truth he’d tried his best to stop himself believing. His father didn’t regret anything; he wanted to imprison him; he considered him a failure. Azula’s hands were moving in a strange circular motion, and then her hand aimed at him, two fingers outstretched for precision, and he couldn’t move, paralyzed by shock and powerlessness and despair.

He didn’t know what would have happened if it wasn’t for Iroh. At the last minute, just as the lightning blast was about to leave Azula’s fingers, he’d grabbed her. The sky flashed white for a few seconds, and then a crashing boom rang out in the quiet stillness of the bay, and the lightning struck a cliff, somewhere off into the distance. Before she knew it, Azula was falling into the water, Iroh having pushed her off the ship, taking advantage of her momentary surprise at his redirection technique. Zuko stared at it all, and then – “Run!” cried Iroh – and so he jumped up and his legs carried him away from the ship, away from the soldiers, from his sister, from all his shattered hopes – and it wasn’t that he was scared of them, or escaping for his own survival – he was running for a different reason. He ran more for his uncle’s sake than his own.

* * *

“I’m not your enemy! I won’t fight you!”

(y/n) heard Aang’s shouts amongst all the smashing rocks outside, reluctantly impressed at his desperate attempts to keep the peace. Maybe it was for the best that he didn’t fight back– the earthbenders had no doubt been instructed to keep the Avatar safe, and so Aang wasn’t in real danger, anyway. Though – (y/n) finally made her way out of the building and fully saw what was happening – it all didn’t seem like the safe, controlled environment she’d initially thought it would be. Currently, Aang was trapped inside the holes of two earth coins, which were rolling quickly away, and then they were broken by an earthbender and crumbled to bits. His landing was soft with the help of his airbending, so he rose, unharmed, and faced the rest of the soldiers. He didn’t have time to make another plea for peace. More earth coins were sent his way, one above and one below, and then two more from opposite sides of the arena. (y/n) found her breath caught in her throat – would they crush him? – but then, no, of course they wouldn’t: _this was all just a trick_ , she reminded herself, and indeed, Aang jumped through the holes just in time as all four of the attacks collided and fell to the ground.

The fighting continued for another few minutes. Aang was still refusing to fight, no matter how hard Fong’s men tried to attack him. In Aang’s words, they couldn’t fight forever, and all he could do was to keep running away until they tired themselves out. Still... It was far more likely to go the other way, thought (y/n). He _was_ , after all, outnumbered. As the time went on, and attack after attack flew at Aang, (y/n) liked this less and less. Couldn’t Fong have tried some more peaceful options – more brews and cultural rituals and funny surprises? And yet... (y/n) knew that wouldn’t have worked. It seemed that the Avatar State was Aang’s equivalent of the fight or flight response, and therefore a genuine, substantial threat was required for it to activate. _But was this right?_ (y/n) wanted to push the thought aside, remembering the destruction she’d seen at the North Pole, but… Aang was her friend. She did feel a little bad seeing him go through this. For a brief moment, she wondered if she should step in – but no – she reminded herself – there was no need – they weren’t _really_ going to hurt him.

Meanwhile, Katara was lying down in their bedroom, listening to the commotion outside. She’d told Aang she wouldn’t stick around the next day to see him put himself through the torment of the Avatar State, and she’d been true to her word. Still, the noises outside worried her – they didn’t sound anything like the harmless things they’d tried the day before.

“I wonder what crazy thing they’re trying to do now,” she told Momo, who slept on a pillow beside her. “Maybe we should just make sure Aang’s okay.”

Her feelings of fear and urgency only increased as she ran down the stairs, the noises getting louder every step of the way. What on earth were they doing out there? And then, at the base of the stairway, she met Sokka, who filled her in on what was really going on.

“The General’s gone crazy! He’s trying to force Aang into the Avatar State!” he shouted, and without further ado, Katara rushed outside.

(y/n) looked on as Sokka and Katara joined the fight. Sokka knocked out a soldier with his boomerang, and Katara water-whipped the head off a spear. She felt bad all of a sudden – and again, she contemplated joining them… Maybe Fong somehow had a way to guarantee Aang’s safety, but now that Sokka and Katara were mixed in, could he really keep all three of them from harm? As she kept watching the fight, not sure whether to make a move, she found her answer: an evident _no_.

At least, Sokka had managed to escape on an ostrich horse, and Aang up a stairway, but Katara was now alone in the arena. By all means, Fong shouldn’t have touched her – he was only meant to be fighting Aang… Even so, earth coins rolled at Katara, and this definitely wasn’t right anymore, but just as (y/n) finally made the decision to jump in to help, they stopped. Fong looked at Aang and spoke.

“Maybe you can avoid me… But she can’t.”

The soldiers knew what to do. Earth coins moved in a triangular formation around Katara, and though she tried to defend herself by sending a water whip at Fong, his dust pillars turned it to mud. And then – (y/n) couldn’t believe it – what was happening? – surely Fong wasn’t _actually_ going to go through with this? – but it was real, and Katara was sinking knee-deep down into the ground.

“I can’t move!”

It was true. She couldn’t. (y/n) froze as she saw Katara’s futile attempts to get out, the panic in her voice causing Aang to jump down from the stairs.

“Don’t hurt her!”

Immediately, he sent a gust of wind at Fong. The attack did nothing – the air collided with an earth wall, and so Katara sank deeper into the ground.

Sokka was there too now, seeing it all happen from atop his ostrich horse, and he rode out towards his sister, voice filled with worry as he shouted “Katara! No!”

The feet of his animal sank into the earth, and he flew off the ostrich horse, slamming into the hole of an earth coin. Neither of them could do anything, and (y/n) knew she had to act. She _had_ supported Fong’s plan initially, but doing it this way? No, this had gone too far.

She rushed forward as Aang clutched desperately onto Fong’s arm, pleading with him: “Stop this! You have to let her go!”

Fong didn’t budge, and all he had to say was: “You could save her if you were in the Avatar State!”

(y/n) was close enough now, and she sent a blast of fire at the unsuspecting Fong. For a second, he froze, and then a wall was up, a wall that crashed into (y/n) and flung her aside as Fong shot her a brief glance of disgust, before turning back to Aang.

Tears formed around Aang’s eyes as he pleaded for Katara’s life. “I’m trying… I’m trying!” he begged, but it was no use.

“Aang, I’m sinking!” shouted Katara, her voice frantic as she twisted around again, now buried chest-deep in the ground.

(y/n) couldn’t see them anymore, crawling out from under the rubble of the wall, but she could hear them, and it hit her how Aang’s voice was breaking, how he was panicking, on the verge of tears. A horrifying thought flashed through her mind then, and she wanted to slap herself for not realizing it sooner. Aang didn’t just think Katara would be hurt.

_He thought she was going to die._

Her own memories came back to her, that horrible feeling as she looked upon the noose that day, her parents being led out of the building, their shaking and desperate gasps. How she’d felt back then, utterly lost and hopeless and afraid, something breaking inside her forever, that feeling of powerlessness as she stared at their struggling bodies, and there was nothing she could do but watch. And now…

_Aang was feeling that exact same thing._

How has she not realized? She’d been an absolute idiot – she’d even pushed him to go ahead with this, guilt-tripped him, dismissed it all by thinking nobody would be hurt… And now, (y/n) didn’t know what would happen to Katara, but even if nothing dangerous came of it… To put someone through that – Aang – a twelve year old child who was too nice even to attack Fong’s soldiers in retaliation – to put him through the stress of thinking he was watching his best friend die, powerless to stop it… _How truly despicable._ He wasn’t any better than any of the Fire Nation troops he claimed to be fighting against. With his sadistic attitude, ready to traumatize a twelve year old… he’d fit right in.

“I don’t see glowing!” said Fong, and (y/n) could see now how the ground swallowed Katara up, right to her neck.

“Please!” she shouted – and, (y/n) thought, what if he _was_ actually going to kill her? From her position across the arena, she released the most powerful attack she could, giving it her all – if only she could stop Fong now, before anything serious happened – and the fire almost reached him – but then, another wall blocked the way, and then the ground behind her moved forward and knocked her over, and her hands and feet were swallowed up and there was nothing more she could do. And Aang… he was on his knees now, full out begging.

“You don’t need to do this!” he pleaded.

Fong would hear no more of it.

“Apparently, I do.”

His fist clenched, and then Katara was underground completely.

For that minute, the world froze. Anxiety levels crashing through the roof, (y/n) thought about Katara, about Aang, about what was going to happen now. Aang… she imagined the emotions he was going through – horrific feelings of loss – loss of the closest thing he had to family. He knelt above the place where Katara had just disappeared, eyes broken and filled with despair, and then –

His eyes and tattoos began to glow white, and he turned his head to Fong, who was smiling triumphantly at his apparent success.

“It worked! It worked!” he shouted.

The smile quickly disappeared from his face.

(y/n) knew that Aang was a master airbender, but the next minutes far surpassed anything that she’d ever seen before: Fong flying across the arena, Aang rising to the clouds on a vortex of air and dust, houses smashed to pieces as Aang crashed back down to the ground. Even when Fong brought Katara back from the earth, yelled that it was all a trick, Aang didn’t stop. Not that he _should_ have stopped, thought (y/n), eyes wide and paralyzed in awe as she watched Aang decimate the base – that really didn’t make the General’s actions any less wrong. Dust clouded her vision, and rubble fell onto her – though at least her hands were free now, so she could crawl out when everything was over. And Aang had stopped now – was it done? – but no, his eyes were still glowing, and a dome of air protected him from any attacks. Then, as soon as it had started, it was over, and Aang collapsed onto the ground.

Immediately, Katara ran over to hug him, and (y/n) followed. She _had_ to apologize. What had she been thinking yesterday! – she _hadn’t_ been thinking, running purely on her emotions. Before she’d made it to them, Fong’s triumphant voice boomed through the arena: “Ha! Are you joking? That was almost perfect! We just have to find out a way to control you when you’re like that.”

Katara said what everyone was thinking at that minute: “You’re out of your mind.”

“I guess we’ll figure it out on the way to the Fire Nation,” he said, still not giving up, and then Sokka rode up behind him, and knocked him out. When he asked if anyone had a problem with that, none of the soldiers responded.

(y/n) finally made it to the center of the arena, and she didn’t know what to say. It was all overwhelming, and there were so many thoughts she had about it all. She didn’t know if her friends would even listen, and they would be fully within their right not to. Still, eventually, she spoke.

“Aang… I’m so, so sorry. The things I said yesterday were horrible and… I shouldn’t have forced you into this. What just happened…” She paused, taking a breath, “I won’t pretend to have been through the exact same thing, and it’s not about me anyway, but I understand enough, and what you’ve just gone through is truly one of the worst things in the world. You didn’t deserve to ever have this happen to you, and I was a terrible friend to think it was an acceptable price to pay… You made the right decision yesterday, and I’m so sorry for putting you under such pressure. I just – I guess I wasn’t thinking last night…” She took a deep breath, finishing the apology: “I really hope you can forgive me.”

For a few seconds, Aang said nothing, and (y/n) stood there, worried and unsure what to expect. Then, suddenly, Katara spoke.

“(y/n), you don’t understand. That’s not the problem – it’s not that you _weren’t_ thinking. You were, but you were thinking about defeating the Fire Nation, and not about Aang. It’s fine to want revenge against people who hurt you, but… those feelings should never, _ever_ , come before the wellbeing of your friends.”

“Katara’s right,” Sokka chimed in. “I’ll hold my hands up and say that I was supportive of Fong’s plan too at first, and,” he looked at Aang, “I’m really sorry about that. But – (y/n), it’s not that you were being overly emotional or whatever, you were being selfish.”

(y/n) took a breath, and, after a bit of hesitation, she realized that they were right.

“I understand,” she said, voice quiet and solemn, filled with regret, “I _was_ being selfish… I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have that were really hurtful and wrong. Aang – you’re doing all you can, and you made the right choice in sticking with your plan to master the elements. None of what’s happening is your fault, and it’s completely alright to take your time. And Sokka… Katara… I’m sorry for what I said to you as well. I _was_ being mean, and selfish, and that is no way to act around people you care about. So…” she paused, “I’m really, really sorry. I promise, I won’t let it ever happen again.”

“It’s okay.” said Aang, finally looking up at her. “It wasn’t your fault, anyway. Fong was the one who attacked me, and you did try to help me, in the end…”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did. Thank you so much for giving me another chance.”

“It’s okay from our side, too,” said Katara, giving (y/n) a weak smile.

“Friends?” asked (y/n) hopefully.

“Friends.” confirmed Aang.

They hugged it out, letting the hurt and frustration seep away into the dust, and then they were interrupted by a soldier.

“Do you still want an escort to Omashu?”

Katara rolled her eyes. “I think we’re all set.”

And so, they all got back onto Appa and flew off, heading towards Omashu at last.

* * *

With each step of the way to the river, Azula’s words sunk in harder and deeper, burning themselves into his mind.

_“A miserable failure.”_

He’d known he was, all along, and he knew Father knew, so why now, why did it hurt so much?

 _“Why would he want_ you _back home?”_

She was right. Once a failure, always a failure – and back at the North Pole, he’d messed everything up again.

_“Lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him”_

He was an embarrassment to his father, and that’s all he was. And now… now, he was a fugitive. (y/n) had been right. Iroh had been right. His father really didn’t love him, because he hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

There was no coming back to his country now. Not after this.

_And there was no coming back to Father._

And now, without his parents, his sister, his country, anybody at all in this world who would care about him, someone whose presence felt like home… He was alone, and he had nobody, and all of it was his own fault.

His hand reached for the knife, and he looked at it for a minute, and then at the water, and then his eyes closed as the blade cut through his hair. He held onto it when it was off, refusing to let go – was this really what he had to do? Was there no other way? But no, there wasn’t, because now, he was officially a fugitive and Azula had been telling the truth, and so he released his grip and let it go. He was thirteen again, and just like back then, he watched as his hair fell into the water, eyes glazed over with tears that didn’t dare to fall as his hair disappeared, current carrying it away. With it floated away his hopes and happiness, and then it was gone, and all that was left was an empty hole where his feelings should have been. He stood next to Iroh on the riverbank for hours, staring at the water, looking for something that should have been there and no longer was until his legs felt numb, and _he_ felt numb: sat there in the setting sun, without his home, his family, his honor; alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So (y/n) got a bit #controversial in this chapter (read: she was kind of a bitch). Bear with her for a while, please. I’m not projecting all of my own social and political beliefs onto her – she herself is misguided about a few things, which will be addressed in time.


	14. The Journey

“So you were showing me the octopus form?” asked Aang.

  
The group had stopped by a lake, and now, Aang, Katara and (y/n) were practicing waterbending while Sokka floated by on a leaf, Momo sleeping on his stomach. Aang was making progress with waterbending fast, so Katara felt that it was time to teach him one of the more advanced moves she'd learned from Master Pakku.

  
“Right, let me see your stance,” she said.

  
Aang moved to replicate the stance she’d shown him a few minutes ago. Katara looked on in concentration for a moment, before realising where improvement was needed.

  
“Your arms are too far apart. See, if you move them closer together, you protect your center. You got it?”

  
“Oh yeah…” mumbled Aang, blushing as Katara put his arms into the right position. “Thanks.”

  
Katara walked away and assumed a fighting stance, confident now that Aang had understood. “Okay, let’s see what you got.”

  
(y/n) looked on in astonishment as tentacles the size of Aang himself rose up out of the water, each one moving individually to fend off shards of ice that Katara sent his way, until eventually, a tentacle grabbed her leg, and they were done.

  
“You make a fine octopus, Pupil Aang,” she congratulated. As Aang danced around playfully at the comment, she turned towards (y/n).

  
“Okay, now it’s your turn to practice.”

  
(y/n) had made significantly less progress than Aang in the past weeks, and even that was an overstatement. Where Aang was already doing advanced moves that would put most benders in the Northern Water Tribe to shame, she was still… well, not even on the basics.

  
“Let’s just go over what we did last time again,” said Katara, relaxed and patient as ever. “Just concentrate on the water. Slowly, gently… just push… and pull…”

  
(y/n) tried. She always did try, and by now she remembered the stance so well that Katara wouldn’t have shifted the position of her arms or legs by a millimeter. Still, her movements… once again, something about them wasn’t quite right. It took Katara a minute to pick up on what exactly it was, but once she did, she quickly pointed it out.

  
“(y/n), the way you’re moving your hands… It's too relaxed. It’s not air – it doesn’t need freedom, it needs guidance. It’s good that you’re being gentle, but try again, firmer this time.”

  
(y/n) gave it another go. Firmer, Katara had said, right? Push and pull. She attempted to push.

  
“No, not like that.” Katara shook her head. “You’re trying to push, but it’s coming out more like a shove. Try being a bit less forceful this time, really _feel_ the flow of the water.”

  
A tiny ripple appeared on the surface of the lake as (y/n) did her best to put Katara’s advice into practice.

  
“That’s great, (y/n)!” exclaimed Katara, “That’s progress! Keep going, move your left arm – no! Gentler, slower, upwards, yes that’s it! – No, firmer now – Oh.”

  
The ripple was gone, disappearing as soon as it had come, and (y/n) blushed a little as she realised that, for the past few seconds, she’d been flailing her arms aimlessly in midair. The surface of the lake was flat and unmoving as ever, all evidence of her not being completely hopeless at waterbending having vanished without a trace. This wasn’t the first time (y/n) had gotten this far, but once the initial ripple was made, the water had always refused to do anything else, and all of (y/n)’s attempts to bring it back amounted to nothing. This time was no different, and Katara did her best to suppress her disappointment. (y/n) was trying her best, she reminded herself, and with enough support and positive reinforcement, she’d get there in the end. That’s what she hoped for, anyway.

  
“You got the water to start moving – which is good, well done!” she encouraged, “But you need to keep it going after that, you need to –"

  
Her explanation was cut off by music sounding in the distance, notes floating through the trees towards them, instruments and soft singing growing louder and clearer as a group of people approached the lake. Everyone looked up, and Sokka fell off his leaf into the water. As the nomads spotted them, their leader stopped singing and pointed at them, laughing as he spoke.

  
“Hey, river people!”

  
And so, with that, lesson time was over.

* * *

Trees. Everywhere he went, he was surrounded by trees; trees and bushes and grasses of all kinds, and he couldn’t make sense of any of it. It was so different to what he was used to – even in banishment, of all the things he’d had to be worried about, food was never one of them. And now… now he was stuck rummaging through bushes just to have the strength to walk for another day. Suddenly, the hard, dry crackers of the ship seemed very appealing.

  
He tried not to think about the meeting with Azula. The first night after their meeting had been horrible, feelings fluctuating between lonely rage, hollow emptiness, and hopeless depression. Then, the morning came, and the few hours of sleep he’d had gave him enough strength to push it all from his mind. He didn’t want to think about it. He had a new goal now: to survive, so he would think about that, and only that, would shut out the thoughts about his father, walk faster, look harder, rustle bushes and leaves until they drowned out Azula’s words stuck on rewind in his head. Just take a step. Pick that berry. Find food, find shelter for the night, one step at a time. Frustration at his current situation filled his head, the emotion a familiar comfort – the last remaining constant in his life –so he let it boil inside him like water on a stove – bubbles popping just beneath the lid, scalding liquid bursting through the cracks, aggressive and vigorous and overwhelming enough to hide the stronger feelings simmering away inside him, pushed far away into the depths of his mind. Just a few more trees, he told himself. Find one more fruit, drink one more cup of water, one more twig for the fire and they could settle down for the night. One more night. One more morning. Stay calm, take it one step at a time: don’t think, _don’t think_ , just _do_. And so, he did. It didn’t always work out.

  
“I didn’t find anything to eat!” he ranted, emerging from the bushes to find his uncle staring at a flower. “I can’t live like this! I wasn’t meant to be a fugitive. This is impossible!” He paused, taking another look over at his uncle. “Uncle, what are you doing?”

  
“You’re looking at the rare white dragon bush,” explained Iroh, eyes transfixed on the flower in awe. “Its leaves make a tea so delicious, it’s heartbreaking. That, or it’s the white jade, which is poisonous.”

  
Zuko scowled. Wasn’t his uncle taking this seriously? Wasn’t he going to help in any useful way?

  
“We need food, not tea. I’m going fishing,” he said as left Iroh to stare at the flower, walking away into the trees.

* * *

  
(y/n) leaned against Appa, taking in the fresh air and listening to the melody of Chong’s lute. She felt at peace, or as close to it as she could get anyway, reading shapes into the clouds, watching birds fly by into the distance. In rare moments like these, her concerns floated away as well, lost in the endless expanse of blue, memories wiped from her head for a minute as she let the present wash over her: braids in Appa’s fur, flowers on Aang's head, Chong and Lily singing songs and telling stories. For that one moment, everything was as it should be, and she felt free.

  
Sokka was quick to rain on her parade.  
“Look, I hate to be the wet blanket here, but since Katara is busy, I guess it’s up to me.”

  
Katara shot him a glare, but he continued.

  
“We need to get to Omashu. No sidetracks, no worms and definitely no rainbows.”

  
(y/n) rolled her eyes, though she knew he did have a point.

  
“Wow,” said Chong, “sounds like someone has a case of destination fever. You’re worried too much about where you’re going.”

  
“You gotta focus less on the ‘where’ and more on the ‘going’,” Lily added.

  
“O. Ma. Shu!”

  
“Sokka’s right,” said Katara, “We need to find King Bumi, so Aang can learn earthbending somewhere safe.”

  
Reluctantly, (y/n) sat up, and listened to Chong explain to them about a secret tunnel that would take them straight to Omashu.

  
“Oh, it’s a real legend. And it’s as old as earthbending itself. Two lovers, forbidden from one another…”

  
He burst into song, and his nomads danced and clapped around Appa until it was over, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces except Sokka’s.

  
“I think we’ll just stick with flying,” he said, “We’ve dealt with the Fire Nation before. We’ll be fine.”

  
With the added information from Aang that Appa hated going underground, the aerial route was decided upon, and so everyone climbed onto Appa and set off.

* * *

  
Fishing proved to be a complete waste of time, as all Zuko had caught after a whole hour of standing on the riverbank was a tiny fish that he now held at the tip of his spear. Before he had the chance to open his mouth and complain about how this awful this all was, Iroh spoke.

  
“Zuko,” he started, “Remember that plant I thought might be tea?”

  
“You didn’t…”

  
“I did…” he turned around, “And it wasn’t.”

  
Zuko dropped the branch, mouth agape at the sight of his uncle: face swollen, red marks all over. What on earth had he done? – thought Zuko, was he okay?

  
“When the rash spreads to my throat, I will stop breathing. But look what I found!” Iroh held out his arm enthusiastically to reveal berries. “These are bacui berries, known to cure the poison of the white jade. That, or maka’ole berries that cause blindness.”

  
Zuko grabbed the branch and hurled it away into the bushes. Blindness? Honestly, what on earth was his uncle thinking – had he completely lost his mind?

  
“We’re not taking any more chances with these plants!” he shouted. “We need to get help.”

  
“But where are we going to go? We’re enemies of the Earth Kingdom and fugitives from the Fire Nation.”

  
Zuko stopped to think. His uncle had a valid point.

  
“If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, they’ll have us killed,” he said.

  
“But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula.”

  
And, just like that, both their minds were made up as they turned to each other and nodded. Anything beat seeing Azula again.  
“Earth Kingdom it is,” said Zuko, and so they walked on.

* * *

  
Much to Sokka’s disappointment, flying to Omashu on Appa hadn’t worked out, as evidenced by the ash and scorch marks covering the group. The Fire Nation had managed to track them down even here, and so it looked like, unless they wanted to spend hours dodging fireballs as they travelled, they would have to go underground. When they flew back down and were reunited with the nomads, they were taken to the cave, unpleasant surprises arising at every minute as they learned that the tunnel was actually a complicated labyrinth, that was also cursed, and that curse happened to threaten death. And then, to top it all off, the Fire Nation had showed up yet again, and there was no longer any other choice. They entered the cave, eyes adjusting to the darkness, and then the entrance had closed up behind them, deep rumbles echoing through the tunnel as the last rays of sunlight were blocked out by the rocks, and now, thought (y/n), they were all double-extra screwed.

  
“It’s okay, Appa. We’ll be fine. I hope.”

  
Appa pawed the walls of the tunnel frantically, and Katara tried to comfort him, though she wasn’t sure she could trust her own words herself. Sokka seemed to be a little more collected, though (y/n) bet that, deep down, he was just as worried as the rest of them.

  
“We will be fine,” he said, “All we need is a plan. Chong, how long do these torches last?”

  
“Uh, about two hours each.”

  
“And we have five torches, so that’s ten hours!” exclaimed Lily, lighting the torches all at once.

  
As Sokka grabbed them from Lily’s hand and stomped them out on the floor, (y/n) couldn’t help but smile.

  
“Sokka, don’t worry so much about that. I’m here – of all things, light won’t be a problem.”

  
“Right, of course,” he said, but he stomped out the torches anyway, before turning to face the rest of the group. “I'm going to make a map to keep track of exactly where we've been,” he declared, “Then we should be able to solve it like a maze and get through.”

  
Though that suggestion didn’t wipe the anxiety from his friends’ faces, let alone from their minds, they set off anyway, Sokka’s map being the closest thing they had to a plan in this difficult, dangerous situation.

* * *

  
Zuko stared at the girl treating Iroh, then at the walls, then at the floor. They’d managed to find someone at least – and thank goodness for that – but Zuko found himself worrying nevertheless. Some mysterious flower he’d never heard of in his life that his uncle just _had_ to use for tea? And then, this random hospital in some village in the middle of nowhere. He sighed, not knowing what to think.

  
At first, he’d been uncertain that seeking help here was a good idea at all. Sure, the people of this village lived amongst plants like these and were probably somewhat familiar with them, but then again, they were from the Earth Kingdom, and that meant that whatever treatment they came up with would be far inferior to the medicine of the Fire Nation. A servant had had a similar rash once, he remembered – the girl had upset Azula in some way and had ended up with goodness-knows-what sprinkled into her evening meal. His mother had called for a good doctor back then, one of the best, and after only a week, the girl was completely back to normal. As for Iroh… Zuko predicted they’d be stuck in this backward village for much longer than that, and that was if and only if whatever treatment the girl had in mind ended up working. But then – it wasn’t like he had any other choice, and so he sat there quietly, watching and waiting as the girl got to work.

  
“You two must not be from around here. We know better than to touch the White Jade, much less make it into tea and drink it.”

  
Zuko hadn’t expected her to speak. He didn’t respond, trying not to give himself away. Whatever the quality of the medicine might be, anything was better than being kicked out for being firebenders.

  
“Whoops,” said Iroh, happy and chatty despite the rash getting worse on his now swollen cheeks.

  
“So where are you travelling from?”

  
 _Oh no._ “Yes, we’re travelers.” The words left his mouth before he could properly think them through, and he mentally slapped himself for giving such a stupid answer. The girl, however, seemed unfazed.

  
“Do you have names?”

  
Double oh no. The interrogation session was in full force.

  
“Names?” – he stalled for time, “Of course we have names. I’m uh…” _Quick. Think of something, anything_ – “Lee.” _Great job, Zuko, most common name in the Fire Nation_ – but he had to keep going – “and this is my uncle, uh… Mushi?”

  
Iroh didn’t seem too pleased at that, however, at least he’d said _something_. As the girl took some lotion and slathered it over the inflamed areas of Iroh’s body, he spoke: “Yes, my nephew was named after his father, so we just call him Junior.”

  
Zuko glared at his uncle, gesturing at him with a finger across his neck. Okay, he admitted, so Mushi wasn’t ideal, but _Junior_? That was just too far. His hand dropped as the girl turned to look at him.

  
“Mushi and Junior, huh. My name is Song. You two look like you could use a good meal. Why don't you stay for dinner?”

  
 _Dinner? Huh?_ Was this it, was this actually all over, already, so soon? _No way_ – and all it had taken was one application of cream? _Whatever_. No matter how good Song was at healing, they couldn’t afford to stay here for long, so he turned away and refused her offer.

  
“That’s too bad,” she said, giving him an innocent smile. “My mom always makes too much roast duck.”

  
Zuko signed. Song had implicitly made his uncle an offer he couldn’t refuse. It looked like they’d have to stick around, at least for the evening.

* * *

  
“Sokka, this is the tenth dead end you've led us to,” said Katara as Sokka examined his map.

  
“This doesn't make sense. We already came through this way,” he responded.

  
“We don't need a map,” said Chong, “We just need love. The little guy knows it.”

  
“Yeah, but I wouldn't mind a map also.”

  
YN smirked – the little guy? That was one heck of a nickname – but then the feeling of dread set back in as Sokka came to a sudden realization.

  
“There's something strange here. There's only one explanation. The tunnels are changing.”

  
With that, the tunnels began to shake, causing them all to look up. (y/n) brought her arms to her head to shield herself from any falling rocks, but then the cave was quiet again, the shaking having ended as soon as it began. Still, that didn’t bring anyone relief.

  
“The tunnels, they're a-changin'!” exclaimed Chong, “It must be the curse! I knew we shouldn't have come down here!”

  
“Right, if only we listened to you.”

  
Before Sokka could say anything else to Chong, Katara help up a hand in warning. “Everyone be quiet. Listen.”

  
They did. A low snarl came rumbling from deep within the darkness of the tunnel, and then a screech sounded as Momo flew away in fear. A few dreadful seconds later, a creature came rushing at them out of the cave, what looked like a bat, except bigger, and scarier, and with teeth. According to one of the nomads, this was a wolfbat.

  
The group burst into a state of panic as the wolfbat flew around the cave. Sokka swung at the bat with his torch, missing it every time, and for a minute, (y/n) wondered if she should help him, before she heard a growl of pain come from Appa. They all turned towards him, watching the flames disappear from his fur as he got up and began running around the cave, colliding with every wall and pillar in his way. And then – the ceiling was falling, and Aang had blown them all out of the way, and all anyone could see was dust.

  
When the dust settled back down onto the floor of the cave, (y/n) looked up to find Aang and Katara were gone. As much as Sokka tried to dig them all through the barrier that separated them from their friends, it was no use. If they wanted to reunite with Aang and Katara, they would have to make it out of the cave themselves.

* * *

  
Dinner was ready, and, much to Zuko’s surprise, his uncle was completely healed. He still didn’t fully believe it was possible – some random Earth Kingdom girl in this village in the middle of nowhere had just applied some lotion and that was really it? – but his uncle was completely happy and healthy, and that was all that mattered. Zuko found himself no less impressed by the food – who knew Earth Kingdom cuisine could taste as good as what he ate back home? And Song herself… he’d watched her help her mother set the table, never complaining once and seemingly perfectly happy to help two complete strangers. She was nice, he supposed, and though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he was thankful to her for the cream, for the food, for everything. Everything, except the uncomfortable conversation he was being forced to participate in.

  
“My daughter tells me you’re refugees,” said Song’s mother, setting a platter of roast duck on the table and taking a seat. “We were once refugees ourselves.”

  
“When I was a little girl, the Fire Nation raided our farming village,” said Song. “All the men were taken away. That was the last time I saw my father.”

  
“I haven't seen my father in many years.”

  
He didn’t know what else to say. He felt sorry for Song – and he shouldn’t be feeling that, he thought, it was inevitable that, in the Fire Nation’s quest to share its greatness with the other nations, some people would get hurt – but her words shocked him anyway. And yet… Of all the words she’d said, her story hadn’t been what hit him the hardest. One word was enough to make the first crack in the emotional wall he’d spent the past couple days building up, to bring the thoughts of his banishment, and now his status as a _fugitive_ , back to the forefront of his mind: she’d said _father_. His father… he hadn’t seen him in years, and, truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he ever would again.

  
“Oh, is he fighting in the war?”

  
Zuko hesitated. Of course, he would answer yes – what else could he say – _“Um, my father’s actually directing the war that your father will probably never come back from, so I’m sorry, I guess?”_ – that would just be stupid – and so that wasn’t the reason why he paused. Song’s question had made him think, made him consider a question he hadn’t asked himself before: what if his father hadn’t been Ozai, but instead just a normal man, sent to fight for his country? Wouldn’t that have been so different? So much… easier? Zuko knew it wasn’t that simple, of course – constant worry and dread, the all-consuming fear as a letter came from the front lines, or a knock came at the door, and the only question on his mind in those terrifying seconds would be: _is Father okay?_ But then… even though his father would be fighting and suffering and in danger, he would be fighting for _him_ , fighting because he _loved_ him. A father that lo– He stopped himself before he could get any further.

  
“Yeah,” he finally spoke, and for the rest of dinner, he tried his hardest to remain silent.

  
When dinner was over, he wanted to leave immediately, but Iroh insisted on helping Song clear up as a sign of his gratitude. Left alone for once, he’d gone out to sit on the family’s porch, gazing off into the night underneath the soft orange glow of a lantern, thinking about his next steps forward. _Get away from this house, for one_ – he thought, but – what came after that? He didn’t know.

  
Ten minute had passed when Song came out of the house, evidently having finished washing up, and immediately started walking to him.

  
“Can I join you?” She sat down next to him, not waiting for a reply. “I know what you've been through. We've all been through it.” An uncomfortable sensation passed through him as her gaze lingered on his scar. “The Fire Nation has hurt you.”

  
He stared straight ahead into the night, saying nothing. He knew she’d meant no harm, was just trying to be nice, but still, what she said couldn’t possibly be true. There was no way she understood – how could she? She didn’t know him. To her, he was just another traveler. He felt her hand move through the cool air of the night, slowly coming towards him as she kept looking at his face – he hated the pity, wished she’d just look away – and her words ran through his head. _The Fire Nation has hurt you._ Had it? – he thought – no, no way, he hadn’t been injured in the war or attacked by soldiers like she must have assumed – but then… The realization washed over him, sudden, but not a shock, feelings built up for years finally forming into words. He asked himself again, a sincere question, this time: had his country hurt him? _Yes_ , came the answer. _Yes, it had._ And then – the breeze brushed against his face as Song’s hand was almost there, almost at his scar – and he pushed it away. He didn’t need her pity. It was all his fault, anyway.

  
He didn’t know what made him stay. He’d wanted to walk away after that, leave yet another uncomfortable situation Song had put him in, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept listening as she spoke about her past, mouth not opening to stop her, legs not moving to get up. He tried not to notice the feeling as he listened to her, but something in her words, in her very voice, in her gaze as she looked at him one last time, and then off into the night, resonated within him, somewhere deep in his subconscious. And then, when she pulled up her clothes to reveal her own scar, flame trails growing up her leg like pale red vines… He didn’t know what to say. All he could think was – _the Fire Nation had done that?_ For a minute, he wondered if what he’d been taught about the greatness of the Fire Nation was true, but the thought left him as quickly as it had come. Years of propaganda and denial surfaced within him, making him feel guilty for even thinking such thoughts – and so he looked at Song’s leg once more, and then he looked away.

* * *

  
A few hours had passed since they’d entered the cave, and another couple since the group had been separated, and now, the anxiety was really starting to set in. Sokka was annoyed, of course, but even the nomads were beginning to get irritated now: despite Sokka's map, they’d ended up deeper into the cave than ever, stood before a wall of rubble (y/n) was sure she’d seen before.

  
“Oh great,” complained a nomad, “Your plans have led us to another dead end!”

  
“At least I’m thinking of ideas and trying to get us out of here, Moku.”

  
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. We’re thinking of ideas? Because I’ve had an idea for, like, an hour now.”

  
(y/n) stared at Chong. She'd liked him well enough at first, but, honestly, was it even possible for someone be this stupid?

  
“Yes!” shouted Sokka, “We’re all thinking of ideas!”

  
“Well,” Chong began, “Then listen to this: If love is the key out of here, then all we need to do is to play a love song!”

  
(y/n)’s jaw dropped. _Yup_ , she thought, _definitely possible_.

  
Even so, she didn’t stop the nomads picking up their instruments and beginning to play. Irritating as the group had turned out to be, the so-bad-they're-good songs were better than silence, and so they all walked on, (y/n) for one feeling a little more at ease, even if Sokka didn’t share the same sentiments.

  
One torch, ten songs and what felt like hundreds of turns later, low growls once again sounded from a tunnel. Before anyone had time to hide, wolfbats rushed at them, more of them than last time and scarier than ever before. Sokka reacted immediately, waving his hands around in an attempt to scare them off, but the creatures took no notice of him and flew straight past.

  
“Hey! You saved us, Sokka!” cheered Chong.

  
“No, they were trying to get away from something!”

  
“From what?”

  
As the terrifying realization set in that something even worse was in store, the cave began to rumble, floor shaking with the force of whatever was hiding in the darkness. The cave walls crumbled in front of them, and then – two huge creatures that (y/n) vaguely recognized as badgermoles burst through into the tunnel. The wall closed behind them, and then they were trapped: one badgermole in front, the other behind, walls of rock in all directions and nowhere to run. Sokka, the nomads, and (y/n) stood still, paralyzed in shock. They backed away, never once taking their eyes off the beasts in front of them. One of them swiped his paw and the ground they stood on was divided in two, once again making the whole cave quake with the force, clouds of dust rising up over the crack. Sokka and the rest of the group were now separated. He backed away, dropping his torch in the process. Wrong move. In his panic, he almost ran into the second badgermole, and as he realised where he’d ended up, the badgermole swiped at him and he was blown back several feet. He backed away as quickly as he could, but he was slow, and on the floor, and he didn’t have time to spare to get up and run. (y/n) looked at him, hoping he’d make it out of this safely, ready to attack if the badgermole hurt her friend. But then – the sounds of scuffling and crumbling rocks were interrupted by a sweet note of music. Sokka had hit Chong's lute in his attempts to get away, and, all of a sudden, the badgermole had stopped.

  
Sokka thought fast. Realising that this was his chance, he picked up the lute and began to play a tune.

  
“Hey,” shouted Chong from across the cave, “Those things are music lovers!”

  
“Badgermoles coming towards me…” Sokka's hand plucked at the same string over and over again as he nervously sang: “Come on guys, help me out!”

  
For once, (y/n) was grateful for Chong's stupidity, or perhaps his desire to turn anything and everything into music – whatever it was, he was singing now, and the badgermoles clearly liked it. A few songs later, the creatures no longer looked so terrifying, and so they all climbed onto the badgermoles, and rode off on them out of the cave.

* * *

  
Finally, Iroh finished clearing up, and whatever else he'd been doing in the house, and Zuko was free to leave. He stood outside with his uncle, saying nothing as Iroh thanked Song and her mother for the food.

  
“You’re welcome,” she said, “It brings me pleasure to see someone eat my cooking with such… gusto.”

  
Iroh patted his stomach. “Much practice,” he smiled.

  
Zuko began to walk away from them, relieved it was all over, but Iroh stopped him.

  
“Junior, where are your manners? You need to thank these nice people.”

  
Quickly, he turned around and bowed. “Thank you.” And then, he turned around again and kept walking.

  
He knew he should have said more. He was genuinely thankful for what Song and her mother had done for him, and he knew they deserved more than two reluctantly muttered words. It was just – he couldn’t bring himself to look up at them, to see the understanding and pity in Song's gaze. The crack opened up at the dinner table was opening wider, unwelcome emotions beginning to seep through, and Song's face right now would only make things worse. He hoped she wouldn’t speak, would just leave everything be as it was, but, as usual, life was not on his side. Her voice reached him at the gate, soft and gentle in the stillness of the night, and he didn’t want to hear it.

  
“I know you don’t think there’s any hope left in the world, but there is hope. The Avatar has returned.”

  
His voice was bitter as he responded.

  
“I know.”

  
And so, he left the garden, gate shutting behind him, another failure thrown back into his face. How foolish of him to have listened to her, he thought. To have had even the tiniest inkling of hope that she could understand. How _foolish_. He’d always been like that, thinking things could still work out even after life had shown him time and time again that anything but failure was impossible. And now – the wall was crumbling now, about to come down all at once – he was a fugitive, hated by his sister, viewed as nothing but an embarrassment by his own father.

  
He stopped himself before he could get any further. _Survival_ – he thought – _focus on survival._ His immediate needs: he needed food for tomorrow, a place to sleep, a method of transportation. Speaking of which…

  
He stopped walking, turning to look at the family's ostrich horse. He was still for a moment, thinking it through, and then, he walked over to the ostrich horse, unfastened it from its post and led it away. The animal probably wouldn’t be missed, he reasoned, but it would make things for him and his uncle so much easier.

  
He had already mounted it, ready to ride away for good when his uncle stopped him.

  
“What are you doing? These people just showed you great kindness.”

  
“They’re about to show us a little more kindness,” he retorted. Unless his uncle was planning to walk, which he highly doubted, the ostrich horse would benefit both of them. “Well?” he prompted, holding his hand out to Iroh, and just as predicted, he didn’t refuse. And so, the two of them rode off, faint silhouettes vanishing into the darkness, with just one direction in mind: away.

* * *

  
The long, uncomfortable journey through the cave had ended well, thought (y/n), finally emerging from the cave after the journey on the badgermole. She was relieved to find Aang and Katara already outside and waiting for them, and immediately jumped down and ran up to them, Sokka at her side.

  
“How did you guys get out?” he asked.

  
Aang smiled. “Just like the legend said, we let love lead the way.”

  
“Really? We let huge, ferocious beasts lead our way."

  
“And Sokka's music!” laughed (y/n), “You really should have him play you a tune sometime!”

  
“Hey,” said Sokka, “You know, I think I actually have quite the talent!”

  
They all turned to the badgermoles, who were now retreating back into the cave and waved goodbye until the walls of rock rose back up behind them. Katara hugged Sokka, Momo chittered away at Appa, and Chong had a sudden realization about Aang that made Sokka smack his head in frustration. And then, the nomads left, wandering off to wherever the wind would take them, and as their music drifted away into the trees, Aang, Sokka, Katara and (y/n) set off as well. The walk to Omashu was a short one, and as they made their way up the final mountain, everyone was filled with relief.

  
“The journey was long and annoying,” said Sokka, “But now you get to see what it’s really about: the destination. I present to you the Earth Kingdom city of O –” He froze. “ _Oh no._ ”

  
(y/n) walked up to him to see what the matter was, and as she saw it, her world turned dark. The only other Earth Kingdom city left untouched by the Fire Nation… Until now. The red flag hung over the city gates, huge and imposing and vile, and she could do nothing but stare as her heart dropped to her feet, and rage rushed up to fill the space. Omashu was theirs now… When would they stop? How much more were they going to take – hadn’t they taken enough? The flag fluttered in the breeze, and smoke rose up from places within the city, and, for a while, none of them moved, just looking and taking it all in. They were too late. Omashu had fallen.


	15. The Destination

The tunnel was small and dark as we crawled through it, stench hanging heavy in the air like fog, slimy walls cramped enough to make me miss even the secret love cave of this morning. Try as I might to copy Aang, bending a sphere or air in front of me to deflect the sewage, I still couldn’t keep everything off, though I supposed that, at the very least, I had it better than Sokka.

In the end, we'd decided to go to Omashu anyway. Aang needed to look for his friend, and me… I just couldn’t stand by as I watched yet another city fall to the Fire Nation. Realistically, I didn’t know what I could do about it – but anything felt better than leaving Omashu as it was and moving on.

Night had already fallen when we arrived. Aang jumped out first, followed by Katara, then me, and then, Sokka crawled out of the hole we’d just emerged from, covered from head to toe in slime and scaring us all. Without any bending to assist him, he’d really got the short end of the stick: even Katara’s water and the wind Aang blew at him afterwards couldn’t detach the strange purple creatures stuck to both his cheeks.

“Ahh! They won’t let go! Help!” he yelled, trying to pull the creatures off, but to no avail.

Aang quickly pushed Sokka into a wall to silence him. “Shh! Stop making so much noise. It’s just a purple pentapus.” He rubbed the creature, and it came off easily, soon followed by the second one. Strange sewer animals aside, we were about to move on when a voice sounded from the other side of the street.

“Hey! What are you kids doing out past curfew?”

I turned around, gasp catching in my throat at the realization of who it was – a Fire Nation soldier – right there – three of them, in fact, and we were all in danger. Thankfully, Aang had managed to pull a hat over his arrow, and Katara came up with a quick excuse.

“Sorry,” she said. “We were just on our way home.”

She’d managed to make her voice sound so innocent and calm, so much so that, for a minute, we thought we’d actually be able to get away, but then –

“Wait, what’s the matter with him?”

I turned around to see what he was looking at, and noticed the red spots on Sokka’s neck left by the sewer creatures.

Yet again, Katara jumped in. “Uh, he has pentapox, sir. Umm, it’s highly contagious.”

Quickly, Sokka caught on. “Oh, it’s so awful,” he groaned, “I’m dying.”

“And deadly,” Katara added.

Thanks to her quick thinking, and Sokka's surprisingly decent acting skills, the guards fell for it.

“Hey, I think I’ve heard of pentapox! Didn’t your cousin Chang die of it?”

“We'd better go wash our hands, and burn our clothes.”

With that, they ran away, and we were free to go.

We kept on walking after that, unsure where we were going. According to Aang, Bumi would be kept in a place made of metal where he couldn’t earthbend, but the only metal we saw was construction material scattered through the streets. The rest was all stone: houses and roads and staircases so long they made my legs hurt. We went on, looking out for anything that looked suspicious, ducking behind houses whenever guards appeared, darkness covering our steps.

We must have been walking for about an hour when it happened. A low rumble broke the silence of the night, and, realising it was coming from above us, I looked up. Two boulders were rolling down a chute, trailing a cloud of dust behind them, and, though they weren’t coming towards _us_ , I looked down and saw that, if they fell, they’d hit a group of people walking on the street below. Before that could happen, Aang gripped his staff and blew them both away.

A few seconds later, a woman’s voice I was sure I knew from somewhere rang out below us.

“The resistance!”

As soon as she’d spoken, the person next to her made a sharp movement, and tiny arrows flew at Aang. _What – he just saved them!_ – I thought, and then the arrows lodged themselves in a pile of metal slabs as Aang jumped up to dodge the attack. Sokka started running then, and the rest of us followed. I didn’t have time to look back, but I heard the sounds amongst my footsteps: bubbling and splashing from behind me, followed by a scream. Then – a whoosh – more arrows, no doubt, and then – I stopped and turned around upon hearing a crack as the arrows embedded themselves in Katara’s ice. I didn’t have time to look any closer. Katara ran towards us, the other girl in hot pursuit, and we were all off again.

Aang stopped when we reached yet another stone archway. The rest of us kept on running at first, but then – a crash broke out behind us, and we stopped as well, turning around to check that Aang was safe. A pile of scaffolding lay between him and his assailant, and something silver was shooting towards him – it stopped, caught in Aang's staff, and only then did I identify it as a throwing star. My body went stiff. I knew who this belonged to. The ground shook beneath us, and in the seconds before it swallowed us up, I looked at the assailant, and recognized her as Mai.

I didn’t have time to dwell on what that meant as I felt the ground below me fall away, and then the harsh impact of the floor on which I landed. I rubbed the dust from my eyes and looked up – we were in some sort of underground lair, it seemed, and people surrounded us, dim lamps casting shadows across their faces, illuminating their clothes as green – _thank goodness they’re not Fire Nation soldiers._ For a few seconds, they inspected us, hushed whispers of _Avatar_ , _Bumi_ , _attack_ travelling amongst them – and then, a man who looked to be their leader spoke.

“My name is Yung. I already know who you are… Welcome to the hideout of the Resistance.”

Yung led us through a series of corridors into the main room, footsteps echoing through the underground as he went on about the role of the Resistance. Though not all of them were actively fighting the occupation of Omashu, pretty much the whole city was involved in some way: passive and obedient citizens by day, fearless rebels by night. It turned out that the boulders heading towards Mai were the work of the Resistance, as well as multiple successful attempts to sabotage Ozai statues being built. Still, they were struggling now, and were immensely grateful they had the Avatar with them to help. Finally, we came to the main room of the hideout: a large room filled with people, the ceiling so high that even the emerald light of the lanterns didn’t quite reach the top, and Yung stopped. I found myself on a stage, and as Aang spoke, all the people looked up at us, eyes filled with curiosity and hope.

“So, is King Bumi with you guys?” asked Aang, “Is he leading the Resistance?”

“Of course not! The day of the invasion, we readied ourselves for battle.” He paused, voice bitter, his fist clenching as he spoke. “We were prepared to defend our city… to fight for our lives and for our freedom. But before we even had a chance… King Bumi surrendered.”

An involuntary gasp left my mouth. What – _no –_ that couldn’t be! – and then, Yung continued.

“The day of the invasion, I asked King Bumi what he wanted to do. He looked me in the eye and said: ‘I’m going to do nothing!’… It doesn’t matter now. Fighting the Fire Nation is the only path to freedom.” – a revolutionary spark flared up in his eyes – “And freedom is worth dying for.”

I stood there, eyes wide as I heard the story, agreeing with Yung completely. Aang’s stories of Bumi faded into my thoughts – an eccentric man, as I’d gathered, but smart and capable – as Aang had put it, a mad genius. And then… two months after witnessing the return of the Avatar – the return of hope to the world, he'd taken one look at the Fire Nation Army, and abandoned his duty to his people, surrendering before a fight had even begun. And where did that leave everyone else in Omashu? Hiding in a cave, a city of future casualties; a ghost town waiting to happen – the freedom they would defend with such courage on the battlefield reaching them only as they burned to death. When Aang finally spoke, I was thankful to him for interrupting the horrible images that were beginning to flash through my imagination.

“Actually,” he said, “There’s another path to freedom. You could leave Omashu. You’re directing all your energy to fight the Fire Nation, but you’re outnumbered. You can’t win. Now’s the time to retreat, so you can live to fight another day.”

“You don’t understand. They’ve taken our home, and we have to fight them at any cost!”

“I don’t know, Yung,” another Resistance fighter chimed in, “Living to fight another day is starting to sound pretty good to me.”

“Yeah,” agreed another, “I’m with the kid!”

As Yung's gaze passed across the room to see what the rest thought, I wondered about my position. Just leaving the city to the Fire Nation, letting them think they’ve won... it didn’t sit right with me. It was stupid of me to think about that, of course – thousands of lives were about to be saved! – that was amazing! – but still, I couldn’t banish the vague feeling of wrongness from my head, and Yung must have felt the same. But, seeing how much people supported Aang's idea, he agreed anyway, and so it was decided.

* * *

The day passed entirely according to plan.

In the morning, we'd all risen early, crawling up out of the tunnels as the sun rose to get the pentapi. Going through the sewers was no more of a pleasant experience than last time, but, with lots of people volunteering to help, we were done quickly, and so the rest of the morning was spent putting spots on people and training them to act sick. At around noon, we went out onto the streets, Sokka leading the group towards the city gates, and every Fire Nation guard in our way quickly ran away. From their screams, it seemed like everyone's distant family member had suddenly developed a case of the fictional disease, which made things easier. When the bell was rung to alert the authorities of the epidemic, rather than stopping us, the guards drove us out of the city, or, to be exact, didn’t stop us from leaving – had we chosen to remain, it would have been a lot harder to stop us with each guard trying to stay at least two meters distance from us at all times. And so, the whole of Omashu left the houses, walls, and gates behind them, walking out on the bridge into the mountains, sad eyes turning to look at the city that was no longer theirs.

Evening had come when we arrived at a suitable place to stop: a valley between several mountains where we decided to set up camp for the night. We'd done enough today; the important decisions were all left until tomorrow. For now, people sat talking around campfires, waiting for dinner to be prepared, and I sat by Appa with Sokka and Katara, talking about the events of today until Aang appeared, a rabbit-like creature by his side that I vaguely remembered he'd referred to as Flopsie. Immediately, we ran up to him, wondering what he’d found.

“We looked everywhere,” he said, looking dejectedly at the ground. “No Bumi.”

Katara hugged him, and, as Flopsie let our a sad moan, Sokka and I hugged and stroked him. Before Aang had time to say anything else, Yung's voice interrupted us.

“We’ve got a problem. We just did a head count.”

“Oh no. Did someone get left behind?" asked Katara worriedly.

“No,” he said. “We have an extra.”

With that, he pointed at Momo, and we all stopped and stared as we realised he wasn’t alone; a baby clung onto him, dressed in the red clothes of the Fire Nation, making Momo stagger with the weight. Somehow, the baby had followed us into the mountains, and we would have to work out how to deal with it.

An hour passed, and dealing with the baby wasn’t easier or harder than we thought, just different. I didn’t at all know my way around small children, but Momo stepped up to the job of keeping the baby busy, and the rest of us sat around the campfire and watched them. Currently, the baby was chasing Momo around the fire, until Momo leapt out of the way and the baby fell down, right next to Sokka's club. He picked it up and started to suck on it, but then Sokka snatched it out of his hands.

“No!” he admonished, “Bad Fire Nation baby!”

The baby started crying at that, causing Katara to whack him across the face, and Sokka relented and handed the club back. Immediately, the baby stopped crying and played with it, and Katara hugged him from behind.

“Oooh, you’re so cute,” she cooed, kissing him on the cheek, “Mmmmm…”

“Sure he’s cute now, but when he’s older, he'll join the Fire Nation army,” said Yung bitterly. “You won’t think he’s so cute then. He’ll be a killer.”

Katara picked the baby up and showed him to Yung, smiling at his cuteness. “Does that look like the face of a killer to you?”

“Well, for now it doesn’t. But I bet even Ozai has cute baby pictures hidden in an old photo album, somewhere,” I said.

Katara ticked the baby, making him giggle. “Don’t listen to them,” she said, “I know you’ll grow up to be a nice, caring, responsible young man.”

“Not unless the propaganda gets to him first.”

Katara just ignored me, continuing to play with the baby, but Yung took note of my words.

“See, this girl gets it,” he said, turning to two of his Resistance fighters sat around the campfire with us, “They all become soldiers eventually, and then they go and take over cities just like ours! Well, we’re not going to let them. You know, now that we’ve left and have reached safety, we can use this time to make a proper plan and return Omashu to its rightful citizens!”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” said Aang. “Your people are safe now, and you’re no longer under Fire Nation control… Why put your lives in any more danger?”

“Yeah,” said Katara, “Summer will come and Aang will defeat the Fire Lord, and then your city will be returned to you.”

“Exactly!” agreed Sokka, “Just hang on in there a bit and you’ll be fine, right, (y/n)?”

“Ummm…” I stopped. Sokka looked at me expectantly, and then repeated his question, doubt creeping into his voice.

“Right…? (y/n)…?”

“Um, yeah, right,” I responded quickly. “Right, of course, it’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just… Ugh – logically, I know that what you’re saying is true, and people shouldn’t risk their lives any more than they have to and I understand that, I’ve learned my lesson. But, even so… it just doesn’t seem right to me to walk away like that, leave the city to the Fire Nation.”

“What do you mean?” asked Aang, “The people of Omashu left the city, they’re free out here.”

“I know, Aang, it’s just… I know I’m probably not making any sense, but it feels too much like surrendering. I still don’t understand why Bumi did that, by the way, just abandoning his people.”

Katara looked up from the baby. “I think that maybe it’s for the best it happened this way. I mean, right now, everyone’s safe!”

“Yeah – and I know that but still… I just can’t shake the thought – it feels better to me to die an honorable death than to surrender…” The words stumbled out of my mouth, and only then was I aware of how morbid it all sounded.

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “It’s an honor thing?” he groaned, “Oh no, not you, too!”

“Just – personally,” I added quickly, not wanting to make this situation any more awkward than it already was. “I’m not inciting anything – I wouldn’t want people to…” But at this point, nobody was paying attention. Their eyes were looking up to the sky, and I looked up as well in time to see a large bird flying to a nearby rock, loudly shrieking as it landed.

“A messenger hawk!” Yung exclaimed.

The canister attached to the hawk's back had the Fire Nation insignia on it – a message from the authorities of Omashu – and Aang unrolled the scroll, reading the message to us.

“It’s from the Fire Nation governor,” he said “He thinks we kidnapped his son, so… He wants to make a trade. His son…” He stopped, eyes growing wide in shock, “…for King Bumi.”

* * *

The following morning, we set off to make the trade, Appa carrying us through the mountains until we reached the designated spot. Everything seemed fine so far – no soldiers had attacked us, at least, but a sense of impending danger had bothered me all morning, anxiety creeping into my throat so that every word I spoke sounded shaky and strained. My eyes flitted around the scaffolding we now stood on, waiting for King Bumi to arrive.

“I still think this is a trap,” whispered Sokka, who was scanning the surrounding area almost as much as I was. I was thankful, at least, that I wasn’t the only one suspecting that something was up.

“Me too,” I replied.

“If you two are so worried, you can go ahead and check out the surroundings,” suggested Katara, “We still have a few more minutes until they show up with Bumi.”

“Nah, I’m staying with you. Who knows what kind of secret plans they’ll have in store,” said Sokka, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Then I’ll go.”

Aang smiled at me as I walked up to the edge of the scaffolding, inspecting the area before I jumped onto the layer beneath. “Good luck!” – he shouted, “Meet us back here when you’re done! Bumi will be waiting for you!”

I ran off, thoroughly checking every layer until I reached the ground. Omashu seemed empty today, and even the Fire Nation guards I’d been expecting to see were gone, streets quiet and abandoned as I made my way through. It seemed safe, silent – too silent – the calm before the storm, wind whispering through construction sheets as my footsteps echoed past, my anxious heartbeat almost audible in my chest. And yet, I couldn’t afford to check everywhere as well as I would have liked. Time was ticking, and it was very possible that the guards had brought Bumi to Aang, and they were all, at best, waiting for me to finish my silly wild goose chase, and, at worst, getting attacked. So, having checked the perimeter of the scaffolding they stood on, I began making my way back up, airbending boosting my jumps. Halfway up, I heard a voice.

“He’s here.” It was Aang. “We’re ready to trade.”

And then – I lost my balance. Hands scrambling frantically to hold on, body hanging off the ledge, I was too shocked, too panicked to hear the words being said. I didn’t need to hear them, though, to understand what they meant. Cold, sharp, malicious, the voice had hit me with the force of a thousand trains, survival instinct the only thing stopping me flying off the scaffolding, and into a blind rage. The last voice I’d heard the first time I passed out. The voice belonging to the person who was responsible for the death of my parents. Azula was here, and I would have to face her.

“We're trading a two year old for a king.”

Her voice cut through my thoughts like a knife and it was all I could do to keep holding on.

“A powerful, earthbending king?”

I couldn’t afford to stay like this. My friends were in danger and I had to help them.

“It just doesn’t seem like a fair trade, does it?”

I swung back onto the scaffolding, and began making my way up. Her voice was getting louder, and it took all I had not to burn my way up through the layers. _Maybe she’ll leave them alone_ , I thought, _maybe she’ll just go and it will all be over._

“You’re right.” Mai this time – and _of course_ she’d been with Azula this whole time – how had I not connected the dots? – “The deal's off.”

 _Wait, (y/n)._ I’d almost made it up to them – two layers left to go. _Hold on, don’t attack, maybe she'll just leave them alone and a fight won’t have to happen._

“Whhhoa! See you all later!”

A voice I didn’t recognize – old and happy – Bumi? I was directly below them now.

“Bumi!” – Aang, shouting as his friend was pulled away.

 _Don’t attack, (y/n), don’t do it, you’ll just put your friends in danger. Friends come before revenge, haven’t you learned your lesson?_ And yet, my hands shook, and I could feel my whole body heating up, and every muscle in my body clenched to hang on to my last shred of self-control.

And then – quick footsteps, a grunt, blue flames. A pause, in which I jumped up onto the final layer. Azula's voice – a surprised whisper – “The Avatar. My lucky day.” She jumped over to a pulley, blasting through the safeguard so that the rope carried her up towards where Aang had just disappeared, and I finally let go. I ran at her, grabbing on to the rope just before it disappeared, and shot fire directly up.

At the very least, the flames took her off guard. Though she managed to deflect my attack at the last second, her boots were slightly burned, and for a moment, she stared at me in shock, but then, her expression changed to that awful smile that our last meeting had left imprinted into my mind.

“(y/n)… It really _is_ my lucky day! Two wanted criminals for the price of one!”

I launched another attack, hoping the roar of the flames would muffle her next words. I couldn’t bear to hear it again, that horrible, sickly sweet mock-politeness, the same tone she’d had that night.

“Careful, (y/n), you might burn the rope! And what good would that do for either of us?”

I didn’t process the words, or maybe I just didn’t care as another blast left my hand, once again easily deflected. She sighed.

“My, you really don’t know when to stop!”

And then – we were on top of the scaffolding, and she jumped off with ease, shooting flames at Aang as he stood on top of Bumi's metal coffin. He countered her attack with a blast of air – big mistake – the coffin detached from its chain and they were falling, Azula watching it all from above.

“See you later, (y/n), I have business to attend to,” she said, and then she jumped off her perch and ran to the nearest delivery chute, effortlessly dodging every fireball I threw at her as I followed. She got into a box, and, a moment later, so did I.

Her defense was impenetrable even as she zoomed down the chute, air rushing past her flames not strong enough to blow them apart. The same could not be said for me. While some fire did reach her – would have, anyway, had she not easily dispelled it – waves of orange flew back into my face, and suddenly I found myself having to dodge.

“I know it’s not my place to comment, but your bending really is all over the place,” she smirked, voice piercing through the wind. “I would have thought you'd improved by now, especially after that display of yours back in the harbor.”

I grunted, not giving up – I would dodge everything if I had to, as long as at least something reached her –

“Where is your aim? Your precision? Oh sure, you have the power, but what good is that without control?”

“I don’t need your comments,” I growled, but my voice came out muffled and non-threatening, words broken up by the wind.

“Yes, why am I even wasting my time on you?” she said, and then, she turned swiftly to her right, and there was Aang, skating along on Bumi's coffin.

Immediately, Azula attacked. Blue fire shot at Aang, fast and precise like her lightning – thank goodness she was holding off on that, at least – and Aang spun his staff frantically above his head to tear the flames apart. The chute changed direction all of a sudden, and my eyes widened – we were on the same path, Azula right behind him. Aang directed a gust of air at her, and she parted it with her hands, retaliating with more fire blasts. She was distracted – I took my chance – and failed. Swatting my attacks away like insects, she kept shooting at Aang as we neared a portion of the chute with wooden arches over it. Seeing Aang make the first movements of an air blade, I jumped up, air carrying me past the arches as they fell, hoping that this, at least, would slow Azula down. I was in front of her – any moment now, she’d emerge from the cloud of dust, and this time the wind was in my favor – but then _something_ emerged: not her, but an empty box. For a moment, I stood, confused, then turned around to look at Aang, and saw his face of relief turn into a scream. My head whipped around fast enough to see blue fire headed in my direction – I threw my hands forward to split it apart as it reached me.

“Still here, are we?” mocked Azula, “Always getting in the way…”

She flew past me, and I barely had time to catch up to my box and jump in after her. All four of us kept sliding down the endless chutes, Azula never landing a hit on Aang, me never landing a hit on Azula, frustration growing inside me until I wanted to cry – but that wasn’t an option now, and so we kept sliding on.

A couple minutes later, Appa appeared in the sky. He flew towards Aang, keeping up easily with his speed.

“Hang on, Bumi!” – yelled Aang – “Our ride’s here!” Bumi's coffin flew at Sokka and Katara onto Appa's back, nearly landing, but it wasn’t close enough, and Bumi fell down to goodness knows where, Aang standing above him. A moment later, a crash sounded as another chute broke their fall. For a moment, it looked like they were safe – but then I realized Azula's box was still headed towards them, as was mine. Of course, it wasn’t over yet.

Azula sent a disk of flames at Aang, blue flames whirling rapidly down the chute. The hit never landed. A wall of earth suddenly rose up in the middle of the chute, blocking the way. Azula jumped over it, and I followed, our boxes smashing to pieces behind us. For a few seconds, we slid further down, but then Azula skidded to a halt, and I tried my hardest not to bump into her. Aang and Bumi had gone, and she decided it would be pointless to follow them.

“Well, (y/n), I must say I enjoyed this, but I’ll have to leave you now.”

I scanned her face, wondering if she was serious – another polite mockery, or had she actually found this fun? – But it didn’t matter. Aang was gone, and now, it was just the two of us.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said, “Not until we finish what we started.”

“Oh really? Just try to stop me.” Her gaze lingered on me, and I stared back, waiting for her to strike. She never did. Instead, she looked down, and then she jumped onto a chute below us. I followed behind her – I couldn’t let her get away, and as I fell, I kicked a stream of fire at her. This time, she didn’t just dodge, but countered it with one of her own, orange meeting blue in front of me, and I airbended myself out of the way so I wouldn’t be caught in the middle. Landing softly on the chute, I went for another kick, flames dissipated easily by Azula as she ran down towards the ground. I tried again, and again, and all that happened was more streams of blue flying in my direction, or dodges, or deflections, and she kept running down until my lungs themselves were on fire, running breathlessly to catch up.

It was then that I felt tears form in the corners of my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I could do nothing. No matter how I’d trained – and I’d really thought Iroh had taught me _something_ on that boat, at least – and I'd done just fine back in my training sessions, so why was my bending failing me now? – I couldn’t land a single hit, and she kept running away, never bothered. She never attacked me, not full-out – she must have learned from that night that if I lost consciousness, things would quickly shift in my favor. For a second, I contemplated jumping off the chute – it wouldn’t kill me at this height – just knock me out – but then that wouldn’t be the same. My parents were dead because of her, not Roku's, not Koh's, not any other spirit's, and it was _my_ responsibility to take her down. So, I kept running. I was right behind her once, and now she was a few meters away, and then… Then, she disappeared further and further into the distance as my footsteps unwillingly slowed. The last of my anger, the only thing keeping me fighting for that long, melted away into complete hopelessness. Taking one last shot, I aimed a half-hearted fire blast at her, and most of it dissipated into the air before it could reach her. Seeing this, she turned around and smirked.

“Oh, (y/n)… You were bad enough before and now you’ve lost control completely. My, are you… crying?” She snickered, then went on: “It’s a shame, really, I can see you have potential… Too bad it gets you so riled up just thinking about your poor widdle parents.”

“Don’t talk ab–”

“And why shouldn’t I? They’re traitors to the Fire Nation, and got their rightful punishment –”

“Not. Another. Word."

“Actually, I’ve been doing a little digging, and it turns out, you’re not even related! They just… found you, picked you up like a piece of trash in the Western Air Temple!”

“Shut up!”

“You should have disappeared with the rest of your people a century ago. You know, if Mayako and Tomin hadn’t been stupid enough to pick you up back there, maybe they’d still be alive!”

“ _Shut the fuck up!_ ”

Suddenly, I resented myself for my moment of weakness, and all the rage came flowing back, burning and fizzing in my blood until my whole body shook with the feeling. It didn’t matter who exactly took her down anymore, if I couldn’t do it, the spirits would do it for me – I would jump and that would be the end of her. I stepped onto the ledge and the ground beneath me disappeared, and I felt myself falling, further and further down, and as I fell, moments stretched to hours as I realized I’d misjudged the distance, severely. Oh no – would I make it – oh no no _no_ – I hadn’t meant to do this – would my airbending save me at this height? – and then my back hit something – was this it? But no. This, whatever it was, was soft and fluffy, and I opened my eyes to find I had landed on Appa. Above me, I saw the last signs of Azula vanishing into the distance, and then, I realized I was exhausted, and the whole world was spinning. For a minute, I lay there, waiting until the world fell back into place, but it never did, and then I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, we were in the sky, miles away from Omashu. Katara saw me wake up first, and immediately rushed over, giving me some water to drink and helping me up.

“(y/n), I’m so glad you’re awake… We saw you fall and… thank goodness we caught you in time.”

“What happened?” asked Sokka, “Did Azula push you?”

“No…” I whispered, rubbing my eyes and taking a sip of the water. “I just thought that… I’d jump and then some spirit would take over and take her down… In hindsight, that was a very bad idea.”

“What?” gasped Aang, “(y/n), that’s very dangerous! Bumi and I were safe, you didn’t have to keep fighting!”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You already know what Azula did back then… And then, today, she said some awful things about me, and about my parents – and what gives her the right? She –”

“Hey, (y/n), calm down,” said Katara, stopping me before I could get worked up, “You need to rest.”

“I guess I do, but...” I sighed. “Ugh, I can’t help it, she got away again and I couldn’t do anything!”

“You don’t need to do anything,” said Aang. “Not now, anyway. When I was with Bumi, he taught me about neutral jing. It’s when you wait and listen for the right moment to strike. Azula fights like that, I’ve noticed – she never attacks until the right moment comes, and then she’s deadly. I think you should try that too.”

“That makes sense, Aang. And I really wish I could, but… Every time I see her, all the feelings come back to me and I can’t restrain myself.”

For a minute, he paused, and when he spoke again, his voice took on a more serious tone. “(y/n)… I understand how you feel. When I found out our people died, I lost control too, and Katara had to get me out of the Avatar State. But since then, I try to make up for it by following the values that the monks taught me. Revenge is never the answer.”

“Wait, hold up, didn’t we _just_ go over this?” asked Sokka, “You know, all that talk about how friends come before revenge?”

Katara shook her head. “This is different, Sokka. Friendship _is_ more important, but that doesn’t mean the other feelings just go away. If I had the chance to find the man who killed my mother, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

I looked up at her in surprise. I hadn’t been expecting for her to be the one to understand me, but I appreciated it a lot.

“Thank you, Katara. It really does mean a lot to have you say that. And Sokka… Aang… You guys are always gonna be more important to me, and don’t you forget it. But Katara is right, the feelings don’t just go away. And so, as much as I can hold myself back when you guys are in danger, that doesn’t mean I’m still going to when the only person I’m at risk of hurting is myself.”

“Still, (y/n)… I don’t think this is the best way to deal with what happened. Remember what the monks always used to say? Revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.”

“No, Aang. No, I don’t remember.” I sighed. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Right. Sorry…”

He bowed his head and, for a brief moment, a sudden look of sadness and disappointment crossed his face, and though I couldn’t bring myself to agree with him, I suddenly felt bad for my words. We were alone, the two last remaining Air Nomads, and he must have thought he’d found the last person out there who shared his values, who he could talk to about his culture and feel fully understood. And yet, I just couldn’t do it. Before, I hadn’t given my past much thought – I was curious, yes, but the present always gave me more pressing issues to concern myself with – but now… I wanted to remember. I wanted to understand him, and I didn’t want him to feel alone.

“Hey, Aang...” I started, “Maybe there’s a way around this whole memory thing. I mean – the monks themselves didn’t know what would happen to me after that coma, right?”

Immediately, he perked up. “You’re right! Nobody said you’d lose your memories forever!”

“Yeah! So, maybe there’s something I can do to trigger them to come back!”

I didn’t know what exactly I would do, but at least my words had cheered him up, and that was a good thing, right? For a second, worry crossed my mind – what if it _was_ all permanent – what if I’d never find out – how would Aang respond to it if… I pushed the thought from my mind. It was pointless worrying about it now. The words had been spoken, and, for now, all I could do was hope that, somehow, the first twelve years of my life would return to me. _I mean – it’s not like I’d been lying,_ I thought – _there could very well be a genuine way to bring it all back._ Anyway, I wouldn’t know unless I tried.

The rest of our journey went well, and Aang told us all about his meeting with Bumi. Bumi was going to remain in Omashu, so for now, Aang would have to continue his search for an earthbending teacher. Meanwhile, I braced myself for the lessons to come, whoever the teacher might be – mine and Aang’s native element was air, and earth would not come easily to either of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It makes me feel better to justify my writing decisions in author’s notes, so here goes.
> 
> \- Yes, (y/n) needs to chill. Yes, she will learn eventually.  
> \- I feel sO bAd making Azula act like such a bitch… she's honestly a Big Fave but I need a villain and she works too well as a chapter edge-ifier for me to make her be nicer. Or… less evil, I guess.  
> \- This chapter was edgier than I intended lmaooo. I’d say I’m sorry but that would imply the story gets less edgy as it progresses; it won’t.


	16. Fragments of Travels and Amnesia

They hadn’t wanted to come to the swamp, none of them expect for Aang, but it turned out that this time, life wasn’t giving them a choice. Appearing out of nowhere, the tornado had sucked them all in, swirling and tossing them around until (y/n) felt dizzy to the point of nausea, and then it had spat them out somewhere down in the swamp, and Appa and Momo were missing. The tornado had then swiftly proceeded to pull a disappearing act, and they were all left lost, soggy, and very, very confused.

They spent the day looking for Appa and Momo, but, no matter how many trees he climbed, Aang couldn’t find them. Meanwhile, Sokka sliced through vines and branches and leaves in an attempt to find food, but there was nothing. In the end, they decided to settle down for the night, hoping things would be better in the morning. Sokka collected some branches, (y/n) lit a fire, and they all tried to ignore the eyes of the strange animals they knew were staring at them.

At first, (y/n) couldn’t get to sleep. She didn’t think the swamp contained anything supernatural, but there was definitely something odd about the place; a strange, eerie atmosphere that made the air seem thick, and the water seem like honey – sticky and impossible to walk through. On top of that, she was hungry, and she wished Appa and Momo would be found sooner so they could just get out of the swamp for good. In the distance, twigs snapped amongst the buzzing of insects, and she wished it could just be quiet, so that the swamp could feel less alive. If it wasn’t for her friends next to her, she never would have drifted off.

She had only slept for about two hours when the vines came. Definite proof that the swamp was not quite what it seemed, the vines themselves came to life, dragging the group apart as much as they tried to resist it. She’d tried to fight against them, but wet plants didn’t burn easily, and she hadn’t yet learned any airbending moves that could be of use in this situation – though Aang seemed to be doing just fine. So, the vines dragged her away, and when they finally went slack around her body, she found herself stranded in a place she didn’t know, alone.

It didn’t take long for the visions to appear. They started the same for the whole group, as the others later told her: a mysterious figure off in the distance, drawing them closer in a mystical way they couldn't really explain. (y/n) had seen the two people behind some trees, felt her feet moving towards them before she’d even fully acknowledged their presence, and by the time she did, she’d recognized who they were and the strongest force in the world couldn’t have held her back.

“Mom! Dad!”

She’d been so happy, tears in her eyes as she ran towards them, too overcome with joy to wonder why they weren’t turning around or where they’d come from, and then she’d reached them, arms outstretched and ready to envelop them in a hug and then… Then, they’d vanished, and her arms fell to her sides, having wrapped around thin air. Light filtered through the canopy of vines and leaves above her, water gurgling as her tears dripped into the swamp, and she let herself cry it out, collapsed against a tree, wishing she’d never come to the stupid swamp in the first place.

Katara had found her first, after that. Whatever spirits had pulled the strings of destiny to make that happen, (y/n) didn’t know, but she was so incredibly thankful Katara had been the one. They sat there for a while, knowing exactly what the other had seen before any words passed between them, and when, in whispered tones, they’d finally spoken, (y/n) hadn’t even gotten to the running part when Katara pulled her into a hug. They stayed like that for a while, and then, still barely talking, Katara had dried them both off, and, a few minutes later, they’d bumped into Aang, and then they found Sokka.

Sokka and Aang were told about her vision much later – though, of course, they already knew, anyway. She’d reluctantly followed Huu to the tree, trailing behind with Sokka, not trusting the man who had just attacked them _for what? – destroying a few vines? – talk about crazy!_ – but then, she’d heard what he said about the tree, and she knew she had to try.

“In the swamp, we see visions of people we’ve lost, people we loved, folks we think are gone. But the swamp tells us they’re not. We’re still connected to them. Time is an illusion and so is death.”

“If we're connected, then why did the swamp just make my parents disappear?” (y/n) burst out before she'd had time to think.

“They didn’t disappear,” responded Huu, “They’re still here, with you.”

“Well, what’s the good of that if I can’t even…” (y/n) looked down, her voice turning softer as she continued, “If I can’t even… speak to them or… or see their faces…?”

“But you _can_ speak to them. You _can_ see them. The swamp really is a magical place.”

“Wait – can I – how – really?”

“Sure you can. If you reach deep within your heart, you’ll –”

“No, I mean, the swamp… Can I… talk to them? Like, if I go back out there, will the visions return? Can I speak to my parents?”

“It doesn’t work like that… You don’t need the visions to talk to them, though, they’re always with you, even if you can’t see them.”

But (y/n) had stopped listening after the first sentence. So, it really had all been a mirage, and it wouldn’t, couldn’t, be anything different. What was the point of this whole connection talk, then? If death was really an illusion, then why had they just… Ugh. All this swamp magic was just a pile of crap, she thought, and Sokka was right, it was probably just hunger making them see things, and there was no point thinking about it.

In the morning, (y/n) came back to the tree anyway.

“Maybe, if we’re all connected, and time is an illusion, you’ll be able to see your past self?” Aang had suggested.

“The guy was just crazy, Aang, there’s no magic to it,” (y/n) protested, at first. But, then again… no matter how small, she had to take that chance. So, she had relented, following Aang back towards the tree at the heart of the swamp, hoping it would help her remember. Fingers pressed to the roots, she'd closed her eyes, breathing deeply and trying to imagine a younger version of herself, as Aang guided her along.

“Go on, 11-year-old (y/n) – where is she?”

An image of the Western Air Temple surfaced in her mind, but it wasn’t the temple of a hundred years ago. All she remembered was the dusty room, the confusing letter, how everything was quiet and still, and nobody had been around because…”

“Wait, (y/n), are you remembering something?”

(y/n) opened her eyes, shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts.

“Nothing from before the coma.”

“Okay,” said Aang, “Let’s try a different question. Imagine a voice…”

(y/n) closed her eyes again, trying her hardest to hear something.

“It’s quiet at first, but it’s getting louder, and louder, and you can hear it clearly now… What does the voice sound like?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s working!” (y/n) whispered. “It’s all soft, kind of high pitched, it’s… singing? Wait, no, it’s… Oh no, Aang, it’s screaming!”

“No, (y/n),” he sighed. “That’s just a swamp bird.”

“Oh.”

A few seconds passed in awkward silence.

“Well, okay, (y/n), let’s do this another way. I’ll try to describe what I think your childhood must have been like, and you tell me if that bring anything back.”

(y/n) took a deep breath, once again settling by the tree.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Imagine yourself, standing on a patch of grass… The sun is shining, and you look around to see the Western Air Temple… There’s voices and laughter in the background, airbending lessons are over and everyone is having fun. You’re a bit tired, but you want to have fun too, so you go out and play with them. You see a few people getting on their bisons, they’re about to fly around the obstacle course, they’re asking you to join them…” He paused, letting (y/n) take it all in. “Okay, keep your eyes shut. Focus on the people – what do they look like?”

“Um…” mumbled (y/n), “I’m not really sure? Just kids?”

“Focus on one person at a time. Bring one of the faces closer, make it clear in your mind. What do you see?”

“Umm, uh… Brown hair? Grey eyes? A girl? I… guess?”

“Everyone in the Western Air Temple is a girl, and they all look like that. Try and be a bit more specific.”

(y/n) tried, she really did. For a full minute, she sat there, trying to imagine the girl’s face, trying to make the details a little more clear. On its own, the picture that Aang had painted in her head made sense, it was clear and she could visualize it with no problem. That part was fine. But then – any time she tried to focus on a specific detail, everything fell apart. Shapes became hazy, too vague to even be considered silhouettes, and then even the general picture disappeared from her mind, and she was left with nothing but damp darkness, the chattering of swamp animals around her.

“No, Aang,” she said eventually, opening her eyes and taking her hands off the tree. “It’s not working – I’m trying really hard but I can’t remember anything.”

She tried not to feel bad as he looked down at the ground, disappointed.

“Hey, I’m sure we'll find another way. I mean, it’s kind of hard to concentrate out here with all these noises! And it’s so damp out here, too, ugh!” She smiled at him, trying her best to believe what she was saying.

“Yeah…” He sighed, looking up at her. “Maybe that’s it. Or maybe the swamp just doesn’t work for you.”

“Yeah, exactly! Well, Sokka was completely right, I’d say – it was all hunger and weather and your Avatar stuff. No magic whatsoever”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“Anyway, we’ll find another way to make this work. I mean, the memories are in there somewhere, maybe they just need to be drawn out in a less… swampy environment?” She offered him another half-hearted smile, and was relieved to find the hope returning to his eyes.

“You’re right. We can’t give up now. There’s so many other things we haven’t tried!”

“Exactly,” said (y/n). “We’ll find a way. We just have to keep looking.”

(y/n) and Aang stuck true to their word, using every opportunity to attempt to bring back (y/n)’s memories. Flying on Appa, they’d tried making use of the sky around them to trigger recollections of the Western Air Temple, and when that had failed, they’d tried to awaken the memories through airbending practice, and then through meditation. (y/n) got the temporary job of feeding Appa – maybe she’d remember the time she fed her own bison? – and (y/n) didn’t even know if she’d had a bison in the first place. One evening, Aang recited Air Nomad teachings at her in hopes it would bring on some déjà vu, and it didn’t work. Neither of them were about to give up, of course, but it was still a bit disheartening.

A new method was discovered upon their stop in Chin Village. After Aang had been put on trial for a murder he'd been accused of committing in his past life, he’d found it very hard to defend himself, and, in a last-ditch attempt to redeem himself in the eyes of the villagers, he'd dressed up as Avatar Kyoshi herself. What nobody had been expecting to happen, however, was for the actual, real life Kyoshi to take over his body for a bit, and to confess to everything. They’d gotten out of that situation in the end by taking out the Rough Rhino gang that had come to attack the village, but still, the whole situation left a sour taste in their mouths. That was until, hours away from the village and miles away from the ground, Aang realised this was all a great opportunity for a remembering session.

“Hey, (y/n)!” he'd said, a hopeful smile on his face, “You know how wearing Kyoshi's clothing made me feel more connected to her?”

“Yeah,” responded (y/n), “Why?”

“Well, what if we did the same with you?”

“Huh, what, you want me to –”

Before she could finish, Aang grinned, and produced a fresh set of Air Nomad clothes.

“Where –”

“I got these from the market back in the village. They look surprisingly accurate, too! Go on, try them on!”

Aang turned around, and when he turned back, (y/n) was wearing the exact same thing as he was.

“Sorry,” he smiled innocently, “They didn’t have anything for girls.”

“That’s fine. As long as it works, right?”

He nodded, and they began.

“Okay, (y/n), I want you to take a deep breath. How are you feeling?”

“Fine… Kind of hopeful… A bit sick from those weird you-shaped dough balls I had to eat back there, but overall, fine.”

“Great. Now, take a deep breath in…”

She did.

“Breathe out… Feel the tension in your muscles and release it… Starting from your shoulders…”

They always started out like this, calming (y/n) down so that nothing distracted her from the memories. When they were done, Aang got to the real point of the session – testing the effect of the outfit.

“Okay, (y/n), keep your eyes closed, but stand up. Feel the air flow through the fabric, move around a little.”

(y/n) held out her hands and took a few steps forward.

“Yep, that’s it, keep going… Feel the air... Take it slow… Turn around now… Does any of this feel familiar?”

“Um… It feels nice, but…”

“I see. Try doing some airbending moves.”

“Can I open my eyes? I don’t want to knock anything off.”

“Not yet. Hold on just a little longer.”

“Okay…”

A few seconds later, a loud, high-pitched scream scared away the birds flying through the sky beside them. In (y/n)’s attempts to airbend with her eyes closed, she'd accidentally blown herself back – flying right off the saddle and falling from Appa before anyone could stop her. Immediately, Aang grabbed his glider and jumped down behind her, soon catching up to her and bringing her back to the saddle.

“Sorry about that,” he said, flashing an apologetic smile. “You may keep your eyes open.”

(y/n) tried more airbending moves, hoping each time that some feeling of recognition would come to her, but each time, it didn’t. Eventually, she sat back down, and they decided to try something different.

“I think it might help for you to say some things out loud, like I did when I was pretending to be Kyoshi,” suggested Aang, once again sitting (y/n) down with her eyes closed.

“Okay… What should I say?”

“Hmm… Let me think… How about this? Repeat after me: My name is (y/n).”

“My name is (y/n).”

“I am an Air Nomad from the Western Air Temple.”

“I am an Air Nomad from the Western Air Temple.”

“Good job! Now, I want you to keep repeating after me, but whenever I pause, say the first thing that comes to mind to fill in the gaps. Don’t dwell on it too much, just let your subconscious lead the way.”

“Okay. I’ll try my best.”

“Great! Then – I lived in the Western Air Temple until I was twelve.”

“I lived in the Western Air Temple until I was twelve.”

“I did a lot of meditation, I flew around on my bison and I played Pai Sho.”

“I did a lot meditation, I flew around on my bison and I played Pai Sho.”

“But my favorite thing to do was…”

“But my favorite thing to do was… uhh…” _The first thing that comes to mind –_ she thought – _don’t dwell on it, just say something._ “Uhh… underwater basket weaving!”

“What?” Aang sighed, shaking his head. “(y/n), that’s – that’s not even… Okay, let’s try again.”

“Sorry. I guess I just thought about it too much...”

“Right. Anyway: I used to eat lots of different foods, like noodle soup, vegetable dumplings, and fruit pies.”

“I used to eat lots of different foods, like noodle soup, vegetable dumplings, and fruit pies.”

“But my favorite food was…”

“But my favorite food was… uh… fried komodo chicken?”

“What?” A pang of disappointment appeared in his voice. “(y/n), that’s not an Air Nomad food! And, besides… I thought you were a vegetarian.”

“No… I’m not... Sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, good on you for not giving up on the meat!” called a voice from across the saddle, much to the annoyance of Katara.

“Shut up, Sokka! No one asked!”

Aang and (y/n) tried a few more times, but half an hour passed, and they’d still not reached any success whatsoever.

“I’m sorry, Aang,” said (y/n), deciding that, for now, nothing more could be done. “Let’s just call it a day.”

“Yeah… I’m feeling kind of tired,” he responded, hints of sadness in his voice. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe without the outfit, this time.”

“Yep… But hey, I’m sure your plan would have worked if it was the real thing! If the quality of those awful dough balls was anything to go by, the village people probably didn’t put a lot of effort into producing this costume, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That must be it.”

“Or maybe it was just that I still felt a little sick after all that food…”

“Maybe…”

Try as she might, (y/n) couldn’t bring the spark of hope back into Aang’s eyes until next morning’s sun rose above the horizon. She hated seeing him like this, felt bad remembering that time they’d met in the Northern Water Tribe, when he’d been so happy to see a fellow Air Nomad. He must have been so relieved when Roku told him the news, she thought – thought he’d have someone to understand his beliefs, share inside jokes, talk about memories with, for once. Someone who would, after the death of his people, make him feel like he wasn’t the last. And her… Well, what good was she for any of that if she didn’t remember anything? _Today was just the wrong day_ , she tried to convince herself, _those clothes were fake, and they were for boys anyway, and maybe in order to unlock your memories, you need some deep spiritual experience…_ She clung onto those thoughts, repeating them to herself all of the rest of the evening until she fell asleep, and, by morning, she was ready to try it all over again. Appa was heading towards some town in the Earth Kingdom where Aang hoped to find his next teacher, and everything was back to normal.

* * *

Zuko left the forest at sunrise, dawn shining through uninterrupted onto the street with no leaves to block it, and he wished he hadn’t. Survival back there, amongst the trees, had been so much different to what it was now. With all the people around, with food waiting for him just a few coins away, with all worries of his uncle eating another poisonous plant gone from his mind, it should all have been far easier. And yet, as he sat on a village street, avoiding the gaze of strangers as his uncle begged them for money, he wished that the bile rising up at the back of his throat was caused by anything but this.

_“The coin is appreciated, but not as much as your smile!”_

The girl had just walked away, but a minute before, his uncle had interrupted her business, begged her for a coin, and then, he’d _flirted_ with her. Frankly, it was humiliating. Why did they have to do all this? – they were still royalty! They deserved respect! – though, of course, his uncle had been quick to forget all about that. The Dragon of the West was sitting on a straw mat, harassing strangers for a few coins, and he just accepted it, and, thought Zuko, of course they had to _tolerate_ this new way of life, for now, but that didn’t mean they had to _take_ it. The shame, the dust and heat, the constant looking down to avoid people’s eyes… It was disgusting. _They_ were disgusting.

_“Nothing like a fat man dancing for his dinner!”_

Even worse than that was the next man who came by, dual broadswords on his back, condescending sneer on his face. It was one thing to be looked upon as charity cases, but being looked at as cheap entertainment was so much worse. The man had treated his uncle like a circus animal, made him sing and dance, swords slicing the ground at Iroh’s feet, and his uncle hopped up and down, and people were _watching_. Zuko clenched his teeth, gripped his knees and his whole body shook trying to keep the anger in. Had this happened a month ago, that man would be on his dying breath. But now… What could he do? He was surrounded, and in dire need of money, and he wasn’t Prince anymore.

_He wasn’t Prince anymore._

For the rest of that day, the thought haunted him. He’d failed at the North Pole and brought this upon himself, and now his uncle had to suffer because of it, too. And that man… Long after he'd left, Zuko sat still, staring at the coin he'd left behind. He wished the man would come back – he'd tell him where he could stuff his coin – but the man was gone, and there were few people left on the streets anyway, thin crowds thinning out further until the village was completely empty. The sun set, and it was time for dinner – small pieces of meat with vegetables that they ate in silence. Soon after, his uncle fell asleep, and Zuko couldn’t.

Zuko saw the man again that night. Restless, he’d gotten up for a walk, and stumbled into a cart left behind by some villager; a market stall. Immediately, he'd spotted the mask, cost: one gold coin. Profit: his dignity. It had been a no-brainer from there. He found the man from earlier in an alley, and Zuko hadn’t been looking for him specifically, but for once, destiny had done him a favor.

_“Who's there?”_

Now that the man was face-to-face with an actual threat, he was so different, so pathetic. Of course, it was easy to be brave up against beggars, but now… The man's broadswords clattered to the ground, useless as the man cowered away, and Zuko stood for a minute, examining them.

_They would have to do._

And so, the Blue Spirit returned. If the only legal way to survive out here in the Earth Kingdom was begging, well then, he'd have to survive illegally. Anything was better than daily humiliation, than watching his uncle smile and sing and dance and just _take_ it. And anyway, it didn’t matter, because soon enough these dusty villages would be burned to ashes anyway.

He wished his uncle didn’t always have to be so difficult about everything. A day passed since the Blue Spirit returned, and Zuko was getting food _for his uncle_ , and it was good food and his uncle liked it, so why did he always have to ask where it was from in _that_ tone of voice, and what did it matter anyway? It was alright to do what he was doing, Zuko thought, leaving his mask in a tree before entering their hideout – the Fire Nation did things that were much worse whenever they captured new territory – and that was fine, because these peasants were getting in the way of the war and didn’t know what was good for them, and had to be taught through suffering. _Not like that’d helped_ him _learn_ , but he pushed that thought away, and entered the cave.

“Looks like you did some serious shopping,” Iroh said, picking up the gold teapot that Zuko had brought him, “But where did you get the money?”

 _That_ tone again. The tone that made it sound like his uncle already knew the answer. He dodged the question.

“Do you like your new teapot?”

“To be honest with you, the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup.” He walked over to Zuko and sat down beside him. “I know we’ve had some difficult times lately. We’ve had to struggle just to get by. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. There is a simple honor in poverty.”

 _Honor._ There it was again, that word, the word he'd repeated to himself more times than he'd said his own name, coming back to haunt him. _Honor._ A constant reminder of his failures: if you had it, you were everything; if you didn’t, you were nothing, and he was nothing because he’d failed to capture the Avatar. He didn’t want to think about it any more than he already had because that just made things harder and it’s not like he even had it anymore and he was a _fugitive_ – but the words spilled out anyway.

“There’s no honor for me without the Avatar.”

“Zuko…” Iroh’s voice was gentle now, gentle and sad. “Even if you did capture the Avatar, I’m not so sure it would solve our problems. Not now.”

His uncle’s words stung – why? _Ugh_ , why had he said anything at all about the Avatar – he didn’t _want_ this conversation, didn’t want all these reminders – and the Avatar was gone anyway, and it hurt because it was true. He turned away.

“Then there is no hope at all.”

 _There, done, conversation over_ , he didn’t want think about it anymore _._ He stood up to leave the cave, but no – his uncle grabbed him by the shoulders and _now,_ here came the lecture he'd heard a thousand times before: never giving in, blah blah blah, lowest instincts, darkest times, inner strength. And yet… For the first time, the words seemed more than convoluted metaphors, and he truly felt like he understood.

_“Hope is something you give yourself.”_

He didn’t know why his uncle was so surprised an hour later, when Zuko came back from his walk and told him they no longer had anything to gain by travelling together.

 _Hope_ – hope for his uncle was to live a simple life of poverty, and Zuko just couldn’t do that.

 _Something you give yourself –_ it was time to stop relying on his uncle, who did care, but who didn’t, couldn’t understand, not really.

He had to leave, and he had to do it now, because what good was living with his uncle if all it did was remind him of everything he'd lost? _And he was losing his uncle too, now,_ – and he knew that if he stayed long enough to give a proper goodbye, that thought wouldn’t stay in the depths of his mind where he'd buried it – and so he didn’t stay either, beginning to walk away.

“Wait!” Iroh called, and Zuko turned around.

 _Thank goodness._ No words, no hugs, no parting sentimentalities because those were the last things he needed at the moment. He took the reins of the ostrich horse from Iroh's hand and mounted it, taking one last look at his uncle before he rode off.

_Something you give yourself._

He had to find his own way.


	17. Kidnapped

Landing in Gaoling two days after Chin Village had been a relief for all of us. There were no crazy swamp monsters or unfair trials here, for one, but it was more than that – a new thing to focus on: finding an earthbending teacher – and that left little time to think about remembering. Ever since the failed experiment with the costume, the air had hung heavy around our group, cold and tinged with disappointment, easing at first after a good night's sleep as hope returned to our eyes, then growing heavier still as the attempts inevitably failed. It never ended well. I needed a break.

Unsurprisingly, the Air Nomad costume from Chin Village had ended up being a cheap knockoff. Clearly meant to be worn for one occasion and then forgotten, the soft fabric had torn as soon as it came into contact with, off all things, Sokka’s boomerang and, with my other clothes being dirty or otherwise out of commission, I was in desperate need of a replacement. I wasn’t looking for something fancy – just anything that would last longer than the festival knockoff – and the green Earth Kingdom robes sold in every clothes shop in town would do the job just fine. Still, I couldn’t just buy the first one I saw, I had to try it on before making the purchase. And so, as soon as we’d landed, I was off, promising to join them in an hour, and that was how I ended up separated from the others for the first time that day.

I did the job quickly enough. Just as I’d suspected, the clothes were easy to find, and weren’t very expensive, either, and I started on my way back to meet the others twenty minutes ahead of schedule. The breeze blew gently on my face, and the bustle of people around me was oddly comforting, a sign that there was still a place in the world where life carried on as normal. It was nice to just be able to walk around for once, enjoy the view, linger at shop displays and food carts that made the whole street smell of peach and melon, to look at flowers, smile at strangers, wander into alleyways.

My peaceful reverie kept me from noticing it until I was almost at the place we'd agreed to meet. The feeling was subtle, and at first, I wasn’t sure if it was real or just unfounded paranoia, the stress of the past weeks catching up to me when I least expected it. Still, I stopped walking. Tricks of the light or not, the shadows cast by that cart looked somehow different, vaguely _off_ in a way I couldn’t quite describe, and the wind carried a scurrying sound too loud to be made by mice. The street fell silent and the air turned cold.

“Who’s there?” I called out, slight quiver in my voice.

And then, a man walked onto the street, and a family emerged from a shop, and then a child ran out from behind a market stall; the feeling was gone and everything was back to normal.

I found the others when Sokka was in the middle of choosing a bag.

“It's pricey,” he said thoughtfully, “but I really do like it.”

“Then you should get it, you deserve something nice,” responded Katara.

“I do, don’t I? …But no, it’s too expensive. I shouldn’t.”

I walked up to them and plopped myself down next to Aang. “Woah, Sokka, since when did you have an interest in fancy bags?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to want to look nice! And besides, I need someplace to put my boomerang.”

“Speaking of looking nice,” said Katara, “You look great (y/n)!”

I smiled. “Aw, thanks!”

“Shhh you guys, I’m making an important decision!’ interrupted Sokka, and Katara rolled her eyes as he kept staring at the bag.

“Let’s just go.” Katara began to head off, Aang and I behind her.

I wasn’t sure if Sokka even noticed we were gone when the three of us were approached by a man.

“Psst, psst!” he hissed, waving a flyer in front of us, “Hey, you kids love earthbending? You like… throwing rocks? Then check out Master Yu's Earthbending Academy!” Smiling, he handed the flyer over to Aang, and as quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone.

Aang read through the advert. “Look! There’s a coupon on the back! The first lesson is free.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” I asked, “That man seemed kind of sketchy…”

“Aw, (y/n), don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.” said Katara. “Besides, who knows?” she turned to Aang, “This Master Yu could be the earthbending teacher you’ve been looking for!”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s worth a try! Especially seeing as it’s free!”

“I don’t know what you guys are on about, but I sure do love freebies!” Brand-new bag hanging on his shoulder, Sokka had caught up to us at last.

Aang smiled, handing him the flyer. “Sokka! Here, take a look at this.”

“Oh, hey, this is pretty neat! Hey, (y/n), are you going as well?”

I thought about it for a second. On the one hand, this could be a good chance to get started on my earthbending. On the other hand… I wasn’t sure I trusted the man, and even less sure I wanted to embarrass myself in front of a whole group of people. “I think I’ll pass, Sokka,” I finally responded.

“Okay! I have to go now, but I’ll tell you how it went afterwards!”

With that, Aang was off, leaving the rest of us to wander the town until the lesson was over.

We went into a few more shops after that, Katara making sure to keep away from bag displays in case Sokka got any more ideas. It didn’t help. In the short hour we waited for Aang, Sokka had tried on at least five hats, seven belts and thirteen pairs of shoes, and Katara practically had to drag him away from a weapons shop filled with boomerangs.

“I wasn’t going to buy one anyway!” he insisted, “My trusty boomerang is good enough for me!”

Still, the look in his eyes as he gazed longingly at the green one hung in the upper-left corner of the wall said otherwise.

It was fun to walk around with them like this, our first unfortunate meeting at Kyoshi Island a distant memory as we talked and laughed, stopping to buy vegetables or to make fun of silly posters hung outside shops. The weather was still nice, early morning chill swept away by the sunshine, and the city was vibrant and bursting with life, each pleasant conversation we overheard, each child playing amongst fallen fruit a reminder of better, more peaceful times. Once again, I let the music of the town sweep me up, carry me away to a world where the war didn’t exist and everything was okay, and we were just a group of friends on a shopping spree, and Aang had just gone to an earthbending lesson for the fun of it. Shop after shop flashed by, cafes and carts and people blurring into one, a whirl of beauty and peace and happiness, and I wished I could stay like that forever, problems blown away in the late morning breeze.

We were on our way to Master Yu's Earthbending Academy when I felt it again. Subtle, yet still distinctly there, the feeling from this morning came over me once more, creeping up my spine until I could no longer ignore it. The sun's rays filtered through the rooftops onto us, pale and cold and fake, and unexplained strains appeared in Sokka and Katara's voices. Suddenly, I was aware of the dirt caked onto the bottom of walls, of flecks of dust scattered through the air, of rotting food hidden at the back of an alleyway, smell drifting through on the now frosty wind. I stopped. Whipped my head around. Scanned my surroundings. Just like this morning, there was nothing I could point out as the cause of the feeling, except a general sense that something was very, very wrong. Something about the way the shadows moved didn’t seem quite right, and the street was almost unnaturally still, frozen in place like a painting as the sounds faded into nothing, and all I heard was the echo of Sokka and Katara’s footsteps, and the erratic beating of my heart. A tomato fell to the floor a short distance away from me, and I jumped, red pulp spilling over the pavement like fresh blood, and then Katara’s hand was on my shoulder and she was asking me what was wrong, and Sokka was reaching into his bag for his boomerang, and then I blinked and everything was back to how it should be.

“Sorry, guys…” I said, “It was nothing. I’ve just been feeling a little on edge, lately, I guess.”

And I wasn’t lying, or at least it didn’t seem like that, anymore. Life had returned to the streets, and children were laughing and wheels rolled against the pebbles as vendors moved their carts through the town. Emerald banners fluttered in the breeze and shop windows filled up with a multitude of colors, and the sun was warm and soft against my skin and there were the cheery voices once again, and Sokka was checking out another bag, and then, there, standing before us, was Aang, fresh out of a session with Master Yu.

Even before he spoke, we could tell the session hadn’t gone great.

“Ehhh,” said Aang, sand falling out of his left ear, “He's not the one.”

“Wait, so what actually hap –” I began, but was cut off by a pair of voices emerging from the Academy.

“I think The Boulder's going to win back the belt at Earth Rumble VI,” said the first boy.

“He’s going to have to fight his way through the best earthbenders in the world to get a shot at the champ!” said the other.

Aang perked up at this, and ran up to them excitedly.

“Excuse me,” he asked, “But where is this earthbending tournament, exactly?”

“It’s on the island of Nunya.

…

Nunya business!”

Frustrating as it was that they wouldn’t just tell us, I couldn’t help but giggle. Sokka was a lot more open about his feelings.

“Oh, I gotta remember that one!” he laughed, wiping tears of laughter away from his eyes.

Katara glared at him, then turned to Aang. “I’ll take care of this,” she said, and before anyone could ask how, she ran after the boys, disappearing with them behind a corner.

Not even a minute later – though that had been more than enough time for Sokka to grumble about his latest purchase – Katara was back, a smile on her face.

“You ready to find an earthbending teacher? Because we’re going to Earth Rumble VI!”

Aang looked up at her, surprised. “How'd you get them to tell you?”

“Oh…” she said, feigning innocence, “a girl has her ways.”

“Anyway,” said Sokka, “We should get going. This is a great opportunity for Aang and we can’t afford to miss it. I wonder what this Boulder guy is all about…”

“You just want to see cool fights, don’t you?” I smiled.

“Yeah, (y/n),” sighed Katara, “Knowing him, that sounds about right.”

We were about to head off when, for the third time that day, the feeling returned, the same chills crawling up my body as before, the same silent darkness falling over the world, the same feeling that something was very, very wrong. Once was paranoia, twice was coincidence, but three times was a pattern I could no longer ignore. Whatever was going on, I had to investigate, and so I walked on slower, lagging behind the others, eyes flitting from corner to dark corner, and there was nothing at first: dead, eerie silence, and then – scurrying, scuffling – _footsteps_ , and then a silhouette moving fast across a wall, barely visible in the shade but still distinctly there. I stopped walking.

There were two options I had now. What made sense was to let the others know, tell them the truth and let them come to their own conclusions, deal with this issue together and hopefully come out on top. But then – the worst case scenario presented itself to me. Risk them being late to Earth Rumble VI, Aang would lose the chance to meet potential earthbending teachers, he wouldn’t learn earthbending properly, he would be defeated, then Ozai would become the official Supreme Dictator of the World, and then _everyone_ would be screwed. I couldn’t let that happen. That left Option Two: stay behind and deal with the problem myself. I didn’t know how that would go since I didn’t even know what the problem was, exactly, but whatever it was, it would be better than the alternative. Besides… I remembered the first time I’d felt it today, when I’d been completely alone, when it would have made more sense to have people tailing Aang, Katara and Sokka. And that meant… my blood ran cold as I realised that, whoever it was, they were looking for me.

“Um, guys?” I said, and they turned around to look at me.

“What’s up, (y/n)?” asked Aang.

“Um, I, uh… I kind of need to take care of some business back in town. I’ll join you guys in a bit, though!”

They looked at me in suspicion.

“What kind of business?” asked Sokka.

Crap. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Um, uh. My clothes are too big for me! I need to go back and get a smaller size!”

“Are you sure, (y/n)?” asked Katara, “They look just fine to me.”

“It’s just… uncomfortable in certain areas. I don’t think I’ll be able to fight well in this.”

She paused for a second, and I was sure she didn’t believe me, but then –

“Okay, (y/n), you know where to meet us when you’re done.”

“Have fun!” said Aang, and then they all walked off, and I was alone.

I waited until I was sure they were out of earshot to speak.

“Who's there?” I called, wishing I could get rid of the tinge of nervousness in my voice. “I know you’re watching me. You have been since this morning.”

Slowly, I approached the wall where I’d last seen the silhouette, faintly aware that as I did so, I was moving further into the shadows, away from anyone I could possibly call to for help. No response came, and I stepped closer.

“Come out, there’s no one around. I know you’re there.”

Still nothing, no movement, no words, just the feeling of a pair of eyes on me, a stranger lying in wait.

“What do you want?”

I was almost at the wall now, hands reaching out to touch it, feeling the cold of the bricks spread through my body, and then I leaned over, expecting to come face to face with my stalker, and there was nothing behind it but at empty field. Then, before I could question what all of this meant, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I turned around, and before my vision blurred completely, I saw a familiar face from a couple days ago – one of the Rough Rhino gang members that had attacked Chin Village. What _– him –_ of all people, _him_? And then the world faded away.

My vision didn’t turn black. The world around me became hazy, houses merging into one, signs blurring to the point of illegibility, colors swirling around until everything was a grey and green incomprehensible mess, and then more colors joined in, pinks and blues and yellows, and still, not a shred of my vision was black. I felt myself rising through the air – was I flying? – I tried to move and my limbs no longer worked. Clouds rushed past me as I moved away from the area – though was I moving away? – space and time suddenly seemed like an illusion, and the clouds looked like the man from the swamp and I tried to reach up to him before I realised I couldn’t move.

“Movement is a social construct, (y/n)!” His voice boomed from the skies.

He had a point. I felt my soul fly out of my body into the pinks and oranges and greens of the sky, swirling with the colors, folk songs and laughter and static in my ears, and the faint voice of someone saying:

“The dose will last for another few hours, at least.”

My soul came back down to the ground, which felt like leaves and water, and trees surrounded me, trunks swaying to music I couldn’t hear, twisted into faces filled with grave judgement. They howled, calling to the wind, asking if she was really was the girl from the posters, and the wind spoke with a voice I’d more closely associate with a cave or a mountain, grumbling that yes, she was. The leaves began falling from the trees, and they were swirling again, vision green, then yellow, then orange then red then brown, and it was cold, and I reached up to the fading sun but it wouldn’t move, and then all I could see was black but I was still conscious.

A voice that wasn’t my own asked the darkness why, and the darkness answered in the voice of a middle-aged man that she’s dangerous when knocked out fully, so this will have to do, and I wondered who she was before shapes faded into the darkness, silver patterns that looked like a face, first Aang, then Katara, then Iroh, and then it didn’t change anymore. Suddenly, I was on the ship again, standing on deck. The ocean pounded us with waves of fire.

“You’ve failed!”

Iroh's face appeared in the flames, simultaneously in front of and beside me, and his voice resounded from every direction:

“I dedicate a month of my time to teaching you, for this?”

The flames flickered, and it all went dark, and then they were blue, and a laugh shattered the sky, the whole image in front of me shattering with it like a broken vase, pieces falling away into nothing. Azula’s face stared back from the sky, laughing and disappearing as I fell down behind the fragments, never reaching solid ground and she just kept laughing.

“You’re weak.” Her voice sounded at the same time as Iroh's.

Just Iroh now: “You couldn’t land a single hit!”

Terror enveloped me as their faces merged into one, their words loud and clear, their voices a cacophony and yet every letter was sharp and distinct; a sculpture made of broken glass. I finally hit the ground, and the darkness was back, world silent for a minute until the purples and golds and reds returned and I felt trapped underwater, and the water swirled in a rainbow around me, and it told me that we tied her up real good, and that even though she’ll be waking up soon, she doesn’t stand a chance, and that thank goodness her friends aren’t here, there’s no way we could defeat the Avatar, and then there were just bubbles and a lighted match, and before it fell to the floor, it flared up and lit up my own face, eyes wide with terror and helplessness as it stared back at me like a reflection in the mirror, and the light of the match was blue, Azula was laughing and then it all disappeared.

Presumably, a couple hours later, I woke up. _What on earth was that dream_ , I thought, hand instinctively reaching up to rub my eyes, but my hand wouldn’t move, and though my eyes opened, the world was still black.

“What… what the…” I murmured.

“Boss, she’s waking up.”

An unfamiliar male voice, already bringing anxiety to the back of my throat. Who – _right_. The last moments of clear thought, there by the wall, came back to me. The Rough Rhinos. _Oh no. Oh no no no where am I?_ I thought I could handle some stalker and now I couldn’t even move, couldn’t even _see_ , and my whole body went stiff with terror. Five of them, I remembered, five of them and I couldn’t do anything right now and _this is where I would die,_ without my friends – and oh how stupid it had been to keep this from them – and the inside of this stupid blindfold would be the last thing I saw before they –

 _Stop_ , said some voice of reason deep within my head, one that I wasn't quite sure belonged to me. _There is always a way out in any situation._ _This is no time to be nervous._

I wanted to listen to it, I really did, but a pep talk doesn’t generally tend to stop people from freaking out when they’ve been kidnapped, and I was no exception.

_I understand it is impossible to stop worrying, but take a deep breath and just think._

Noticing my breathing, I saw that it had become shallow and fast, and I forced the air to come more slowly now, trying to focus on the way it went through my lungs.

_Good. Now relax your muscles. Feel the tension in your body and release it, try to think._

Slowing down my thoughts, I brought my attention to myself, feeling the pounding of my head, the stiffness of my limbs, the cold sweat building on my forehead, the frantic beating of my heart. As much as I could, I tried to relax, reminding myself of my breathing, forcing it to remain stable. I felt my hands, brought together at the wrists by a coarse piece of rope, and the same was true for my legs. For a minute, the panic returned – I had to get out – so I willed fire into my hands and tried to burn through the rope. A few tense seconds passed. Nothing happened.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Struggle all you want, but the ropes are laced with metal.”

Of course it didn’t work, what had I been thinking! Of course they’d thought this through, they weren’t idiots!

 _Stay calm,_ came the voice once more, _you can try again later._

That’s right; I could deal with this later. For now, I had to figure out what was going on. I’d heard people speak in my dream, maybe that held a clue to what just happened? And maybe it was just a series of weird hallucinations, but I had to try. Taking a deep breath, I tried to remember.

Something about a poster… friends… Avatar. _What is that supposed to –_ I took a deep breath and, suddenly, it made sense.

The Rough Rhinos had come across a town occupied by the Fire Nation, seen wanted posters of me and recognized me as the girl from Chin Village. Remembering what direction we'd headed with Appa, they’d travelled to Gaoling, watched me, waited until I was alone in a quiet part of town, and then they...

Dose… knocked out… dangerous…

Knowing spirits could possess me if they just bonked me over the head, they’d injected me with goodness knows what, and left me tied up until the effects wore off and I woke up.

Okay, there was the ‘what’. As for the ‘why’… Presumably, they were doing it for the money? The poster had offered a sizeable reward, after all... Though, back when I’d last seen it, the poster said it didn’t matter if I was delivered to the Fire Nation dead or alive. Wait – so did that mean? – but then, if they needed me dead, then I’d be dead already. And that meant: they needed me for information about the Avatar. And _that_ in turn meant that the worst they could do was to either to drug me again (which would land me right back here where I started), or knock me out (and if that happened, I’d be fine). Whatever the case, neither of those situations would land me in a place any worse than I was in now. And at best… Well, I could escape. The fear surfaced again – _not that any of this would work, I’m outnumbered!_ – but still, anything was better than being dragged back to the Fire Nation, and so, I had to try.

Step one was getting out of these ropes, and if fire wouldn’t work, well then… I was by no means a pro at airbending, but there was a certain move Aang had used back at the swamp that reappeared in my memory. Back when we’d been attacked by the vines, in the seconds before the plants had dragged me away, I’d seen him bring his arms to his body, then create a bubble of air around himself, breaking the vines apart and freeing him. Now, I had to do the same. Pushing my hands apart the furthest they would go, I tried my hardest to focus on the air around me, taking deep breaths in and out, removing the situation from my mind and trying to relax. I clasped my hands together, and slowly, I drew them apart. I felt the air inside them start to move, swirling around faster and faster until it formed a bubble. _It was working_ , I thought with relief. I clasped my hands together again and quickly moved them apart, and this time, the bubble was bigger, and the air rushed out quickly, loosening the ropes until I heard them fall to the ground behind me. The hardest part was done.

That thought immediately vanished when I heard voices.

“Kahchi, you wanna go check on the girl? She’s been a bit too quiet for my liking.”

“Sure, Boss.”

 _Oh no._ I heard his footsteps coming closer, and I knew that, in a minute, I would have to fight. His boots thudded on the ground, and suddenly, the dream came back to me, vivid and intense, colors burning bright against my blindfold – the ship and the flames and Azula. How could I possibly have thought I could take on the Rough Rhinos – sure, they weren’t the toughest – but there were _five_ of them, five against one and I was _weak_ , my fight with Azula had been a complete disaster and I’d ended up _jumping off of a building._ Even after Iroh’s training, I couldn’t do anything – he’d been so kind to me and I’d just wasted his time. And for what? _For what?_ It was all useless, they were all trained professionals and I wasn’t going to win, and _wow_ , I was stupid – and his footsteps were getting closer and I’d just end up getting drugged again. My heart raced once again, and my breathing was shallow, and his footsteps pounded against the grass, thud, thud, thud –

 _(y/n), listen to me. Mistakes exist for you to learn from. You_ did _learn something, and you_ can _do this. Just breathe. I believe in you._

There was that voice again – addressing me in second person? – that _definitely_ didn’t belong to me – then who? And then, I listened to it because what else could I do, and I took a deep breath, and I understood that it was Iroh.

Just as the man leaned down to check on me, I shot up and released a stream of flames upwards to where I assumed he put his face. Grunting, he jumped back. Knowing I only had a few seconds, I quickly took off my blindfold and untied my legs, and got up, scanning my surroundings. They were all there, all five of them.

Number one: A huge man with a bow and flaming arrows – the Archer. Number two: the man sent to check on me, and now, he was grabbing his weapon, a Guan Dao – Sword Man. Number three: another close range fighter that I would name after his weapon – Chains, getting onto his rhino. Also getting onto his rhino was number four: a man wearing armor that masked his face, and I vaguely recalled him having explosives – Bomber. That left number five, getting into a stance that showed he was the only firebender in the group – and what was up with that hat? – he could be Feathers.

With that settled, I didn’t have to wait long for them to come, suddenly, all at once. Chains rushed at me from his rhino, whipping his weapons at me as I used air to launch me out of the way, simultaneously dodging Feathers sprinting at me with his fire. Running back, I felt myself bump into someone – I looked up – Sword Man – he leered at me from above – I ducked – the blades sliced the air where my head had just been. Next, Chains came at me again, and I was about to jump aside but then – flaming arrows from the left, and so I jumped right – right into Feathers' wall of flames. Instinctively, my hand shot forward and I pushed the wall back. Still, I almost fell, and in the moment before I tripped, I saw something land on the ground next to me – _grenade! Get it away! –_ and I kicked it aside just as it exploded. I turned around, hoping the explosion would have taken at least one of them out. It didn’t. Crap. Clearly, constant dodging was getting me nowhere.

A second later, a burst of fire came towards me, and I jumped aside to avoid it, bumping into someone – Sword Man again – and I didn’t have time to think as the blade swung dangerously close past my stomach. _No no no, this is getting me nowhere, at this rate they’ll just tire me out!_ But the constant attacks from all sides left me no time to form a strategy, in-between ducking and jumping and diving away from one person, only to inevitably bump into another, and so it went on over and over again, and I was exhausted and couldn’t keep running for much longer. Then, I heard it – the boom of a grenade to my left, a stronger one this time, clouds of smoke and dust billowing up from the ground until I couldn’t see at all – no weapons were coming at me, thank goodness – but then I came back to my senses and airbended the smoke aside, and in all directions, all I could see was rhinos. I was surrounded.

“We have you now, girl. It’s useless trying to escape,” said Feathers, holding a flame in his hand. “You attack one of us, and the rest of us will not hesitate.”

“Now be a good girl and stand still, just a little injection and then we'll get you home.” Archer, this time.

“You’re outnumbered, outmatched, and your friends aren’t around to help you. Gaoling is far away now and you have nowhere to run. If you’re smart, you’ll come with us,” said Chains.

I stood still, breathing heavily, turning around and looking at all their faces. They were confident, smug, and I hated that, and they were winning, but still, I forced myself to take a deep breath and consider the situation. I was blocked, from all sides; no openings, whatsoever. They circled around me, closing in further and further, and now Chains was preparing to tie me up, and Archer held a syringe – I looked down, wishing I could earthbend – but I couldn’t, and the ground was still. I brought my eyes up, and all I saw was rhinos, then further up and there were their smug faces. And, all the way above that, above the trees there was the sky – quickly darkening, the moon already fading in – wait – sky – up – _that’s it!_

I threw my hands down, jumping up into the sky, willing air to come out and launch me away from them, but it never did. Tiny puffs of air blew at my ankles – _ugh, why hadn’t I asked Aang to teach me anything useful! –_ and as a last-ditch effort to escape, I shot some air at whatever person was currently in front of me, hoping to blast him aside and squeeze through, but Feathers barely moved on his rhino, my attack only slightly managing to shift his hat. _If only I could have had an opening…_ I'd have airbended myself out of there in no time! – because what I’d been taught so far was blowing myself out of the way, dispersing certain attacks – but no air would budge these giant animals. And they were really closing in on me now, Archer’s syringe moving ever closer, and I looked up at it and the sky was darker still behind him, the remaining daylight glinting off of the needle – but the sky opening was still there and if I didn’t do something now, I was as good as dead.

And so, I jumped. I didn’t know how I did it. One second, my feet were on the ground, and the whole field was dark. The next, I was four meters in the sky, and everything was lit up, and I was watching the grass burn below me, the Rough Rhinos staring up at me in shock. What the – where was I? – I looked closer and there were streams of fire between myself and the ground – and the flames had shot me up before the Rough Rhinos could capture me again. I lessened the streams, letting myself fall slowly down, and then my feet touched the ground, a short distance away from the whole group. Before they could run at me, I produced a fireball, making it as big as I could so I could see nothing but the flames, and shot it at the group. At the last second, Feathers deflected it away. Chains and Sword Man were charging at me now, and I jumped, fire launching me above their heads and behind them. I was between the group now, surrounded once more, but the grass below me was burning and I pulled the flames up, creating a circular wall around me that I pushed out in all directions. Feathers acted fast, breaking the wall apart and rushing towards me, fireballs hurtling my way, but before they could hit me, I drew them together, bending them all into one large burning sphere that I brought around my back and shot back at Feathers. He dodged. Smoke clearing up a little, I saw the others join him, a little way off behind him. Once more, they prepared to charge, all at once now, arrows, chains and grenades flying towards me – but then I was jumping up into the sky again, soaring above them, and as their weapons collided with the air where I’d just been, I shot fire at them, directly below me.

“Rough Rhinos, retreat!” Feathers yelled, creating a flaming bubble around the group before my attack had a chance to land. As I came back down, Archer, Bomber, Sword Man and Chains sped off on their rhinos, disappearing into the night. “I’ll take care of you myself,” he said, cracking his knuckles.

Before I knew it, a fireball shot towards me, consuming my vision as I jumped out of the way. He was stronger now, no longer needing to restrain himself so he that he didn’t burn his friends, attacking without pause or relent. Bringing his foot in, he kicked forward a wave of fire that I split just in time, before throwing his arm out to produce more fireballs hurtling in my direction. I dodged, jumping up to raise myself over the sea of flames that only minutes ago had been a grassy field, and was met with flames coming from below me as he continued to attack. For another minute, it carried on like this; both of us shooting and dodging, never landing a hit on the other. And then, thinking that he'd won, Feathers pulled out his ultimate attack.

Drawing his arms into his chest, he released them, a swirling bubble of flames forming around him, opening his mouth in a roar as fire shot out. I gasped, I’d only ever seen Iroh do that before, and the bubble was getting bigger, a huge wall around him reaching taller than treetops, and then, before I knew it, it was coming towards me, higher than I could jump to avoid it. Remembering my first airbending lesson, I tried to blow apart the wall, and when that didn’t work, I tried to split it, but the wall was filled with layers and layers of fire, each hole I managed to make filling up as soon as it was made. I guess that meant that I’d have to attack it straight on. If it was pushing towards me, I would have to just push back, and so I did, pushing against it and willing it backwards, and when that worked, I willed it faster and higher, until it swirled around Feathers, trapping him inside, getting smaller, denser and hotter around him, going back to the bubble it initially was, but different; an attack, rather than a defense.

When he finally made his way out, he was panting and sweating, a look of exhaustion on his face.

“Mark my words… I’ll be back,” he said, and then, not hanging around for more, he adjusted himself on his rhino, and rode off into the night. Somehow, I had a feeling he wouldn’t keep his promise.

Appa found me very soon after.

“(y/n), what on earth happened to you?” shouted Katara as she jumped off of Appa and ran towards me, wrapping me in a hug. “You didn’t come back for hours and hours and we were so worried…”

“Yeah, (y/n)! I didn’t realize going shopping for clothes was code for running off to fight people!” exclaimed Sokka.

“Well, I don’t blame you. Up until today, my parents didn’t know that, either.” An unfamiliar voice had spoken, and I looked up to see a new girl had joined the group, around Aang’s age.

“Oh, hello! You must be Aang’s new earthbending teacher?”

“Yup. I’m the Blind Bandit. And you are the Little Miss Missing we’ve been looking for for the past hour?”

“It’s (y/n)...” I laughed awkwardly. “I don’t disappear like that all the time, I promise!”

“Her real name is Toph,” sighed Katara. “But, seriously, next time, tell us if you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t run off like that ever again, okay? Whatever the problem may be, we’re your friends and we're here to help you,” said Aang.

“Sorry… It’s just, I didn’t want you to miss the tournament when there’s so little time before the comet. But I won’t just disappear on you ever again, I promise.”

“What happened, anyway?” asked Sokka.

As we all walked back to Appa and got on, I told them everything, from the weird feeling I’d had in the morning, to the hallucinations, to the fight.

“How did you end up finding me?” I asked when I was finished.

“Oh, well it’s dark,” explained Sokka, “and you were firebending… You weren’t exactly hidden. We were looking for you on Appa until we saw what looked like a fight, so we landed, and there you were.”

“Speak for yourself, I didn’t see anything!” said Toph.

I laughed, and Sokka continued. “By the way, (y/n), after seeing that fight, I wanted to ask you something. Wouldn’t it make sense for you to teach Aang firebending?”

The question startled me. “Me? Um… I don’t think I’m qualified…”

“Oh, trust me,” said Katara, “You are more than qualified.”

“Thank you…” I said, flustered. “I don’t know… I mean, maybe? If he wants me to?” I turned to him. “Aang?”

“Woah woah woah there, I have to teach him earthbending first!” said Toph.

But even as she spoke, I could see a look of unease on Aang’s face.

“Hey, Toph’s right, you don’t have to decide now. And I don’t have to teach you if you don’t want me to!” I reassured.

“Aang, what’s wrong?” asked Katara.

Sighing, he spoke. “I don’t know… It’s probably just me, but something about that would feel wrong. I guess, since (y/n) is an Air Nomad and all…”

“Oh, right,” I said, “Well, that’s fine, I’m sure we'll find you someone else when the time comes!”

“Yeah… Thanks for understanding. Anyway, the two of us have more important things to worry about right now, like getting your memories back.”

“Yeah! We can work on that tomorrow. For now, though,” I yawned, “I’m exhausted.”

And so, we flew off, and since life decided that I’d had way too many strange visions today as it was, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was PERISHING while writing this. Absolutely PERISHING.
> 
> You’re going to have to take my word for this, but this chapter does in fact have a purpose outside of weird acid trips and self-indulgent badassery. It’s more a subtle character-development-ish purpose (in preparation of beef to come uwu) so the plot threads themselves will likely not come up again, but just reassuring y’all that I have not (yet) completely lost my mind. I have also never had an acid trip as the more psychedelically experienced of you can see, but hey !! Creative liberties amirite !!


	18. Past vs Present

Dusty, barren land stretched on for miles, silent and lonely in the heat, and Zuko knew there was no point looking around anymore, because all he'd see was emptiness. He didn’t know how long he'd been travelling, hours sinking away into the sands as his ostrich horse plodded on, and all that mattered now was riding further, riding forwards, riding away.

He'd left Iroh the night before and tried his hardest not to think about it, letting exhaustion and heat burn away the regret. There was no point turning back now. Facing his uncle would be hard enough: admitting he was wrong, weak, couldn’t handle life on his own without his uncle there to guide him, but what came after that? Begging. Wandering through towns, penniless and hungry, submitting his life to the charity of strangers. At least the hunger he felt now could be blamed on himself.

He didn’t like it when things were his fault, and yet it made it easier. If it was all his fault, then that meant he'd made a choice, a bad choice but a choice nonetheless, and he was in control of his own life, not the helpless child he used to be. Thirteen, burned, watching his future slip away, he’d felt like he was on a train heading straight off a cliff, frozen in fear, forced to watch as the train neared the edge, knowing the fall would come and yet unable to stop it. That feeling, frozen and powerless and trapped, was the worst feeling in the world, and he'd pushed it down then, burying it away beneath layers of self-blame and determination to capture the Avatar, and he’d push it away now too: his life was hard, but it was _his_ life.

Still, the hunger didn’t go away, and he knew he had to find food, and fast. When the smell of cooked steak reached his senses from below the ridge he was riding on, he looked down immediately, ready to pull out his swords under the disguise of the Blue Spirit. But then… he'd looked closer, and the woman was pregnant, and the baby needed the food much more than he did. Sighing, he looked away, wishing he hadn’t seen anything at all, and then he’d carried on.

At least he still had water to drink, though that didn’t change much. He was riding through grasslands now — a bit of life, at least, light green replacing the endless expanse of yellow, and he'd appreciate the change if he wasn’t so exhausted. His sight turned blurry, eyes fighting to remain conscious, and then they closed, unable to keep going after hours without sleep.

In the darkness of his vision, he saw his mother. Young, beautiful, just like she’d been when he'd seen her last. Turning, walking away. Just like she must have back then, leaving, never to return.

He shook himself awake; head down, eyes open. Years stripped away by the heat, he was a boy again, and he just wanted his mom.

When he finally reached the village, he hadn’t been intending to stay for long. It was a small place – a rest stop for travellers on their search for something better, as if there was anything better in this world left to find. He cast a weary look across the buildings – rotting wood, peeling paint, weeds breaking through on the roofs, and somehow, this village felt lonelier than the wasteland, left behind in the dust. He didn’t want to stay here. He’d get what he needed, and get out.

“Could I get some water, a bag of feed, and something hot to eat?” he asked the merchant, holding his hand out with all the money he had.

“Not enough here for a hot meal. I can get you two bags of feed.”

He nodded. Of course, he thought, he had no money anymore and he couldn’t afford it. For a second, he contemplated stealing the things he needed, but then... These people barely had enough to feed themselves. There wasn’t anything _to_ steal, not in this place.

Still, even here, children never changed. He saw them out of the corner of his eye: two young boys hid behind the store counter, and then they’d thrown an egg at one of the soldiers sat gambling behind him, and disappeared, smiles never leaving their faces. There was something admirable about the innocence of childhood, Zuko thought, a sense of hope; inner strength despite all odds.

He wished he wasn’t left to deal with the consequences.

“Hey! You throwing eggs at us, stranger?” the leader of the group of gambling soldiers demanded.

“No.”

“You see who did throw it?”

“No.”

They were just kids, he thought, too young to be in trouble with wannabe-tough guys like these, and anyway, he didn’t want to bother with some petty investigation.

“That’s your favorite word, no?”

"Egg had to come from somewhere."

He really didn’t have time for this. These soldiers were staring to get on his nerves, badly, and he wished the store owner would just hurry up.

“Maybe a chicken flew over.”

A soldier laughed, then abruptly stopped, silenced by his leader's glare.

The store owner finally returned with the bags of feed, and for a second, Zuko was thankful; he could leave these men behind and move on. But then, the leader grabbed the bags from the counter before Zuko could take them.

“Thanks for your contribution,” he smirked. “The army appreciates your support.” He threw the bags to another soldier, before continuing: “You better leave town. Penalty for stayin’s a lot steeper than you can afford, stranger. Trust me.” He patted the hammer at his side – a threat – before leaving, the rest of the soldiers following behind him.

When they were out of earshot, the store owner spoke. “Those soldiers are supposed to protect us from the Fire Nation. But they’re just a bunch of thugs.”

Zuko didn’t respond as he walked back towards his ostrich horse. Of course, he thought, Earth Kingdom soldiers were like that – if they truly cared for their people, they’d be fighting with the Fire Nation and not against them. He wished he hadn’t just let them leave, that he'd taken his bags back, at the very least, but then… He was tired, and dizzy, and so, so hungry, in no shape to be fighting anyone.

He was about to leave when one of the boys popped up from behind his ostrich horse, toothy grin on his face.

“Thanks for not ratting me out!” he said.

Zuko ignored him, mounting his ostrich horse and beginning to ride away. He’d kept his mouth shut for the kid, what more did he want? But the kid followed, grabbing the reins of his animal and stopping him from riding away.

“I’ll take you to my house and feed your ostrich horse for you. Come on, I owe you!”

The kid led Zuko to his house, and Zuko let him, all the way to a farm on the outskirts of the village. He didn’t want to come, at first, but what choice did he have? He was hungry, and so was his ostrich horse, and with no money and no food, where else could he go?

* * *

The farm had been a happy place once, filled with laughs and animal noises and happiness. Gansu was just a young man back then, had just married Sela, and their first son had just been born. Years passed, and despite the war they knew was going on in their country, their village was removed from the conflict, always full of joy and peace as people went on with their lives, without a care in the world.

The birth of their second son coincided with the Siege of Ba Sing Se, and then, everything had changed. It was slow at first, soldiers coming to the village ‘for protection purposes', and despite the minor inconveniences of litter on the streets or broken windows in the pubs where the soldiers spent most of their time, life had mostly carried on as normal. Then, they came for the men. At first, it was just a handful of middle-aged men Gansu knew from the martial arts center, ‘just for a little while', the government had said, ‘just for a bit of help protecting Ba Sing Se while it recovers’. But then, of course, it hadn’t stopped there, and a year later, the rest of the adult men had followed: more forty year olds, at first, but soon enough they’d been joined by men old enough to retire, and then the boys went, still in their teens, fresh out of school with the light of hope still shining in their eyes.

Since then, the village had never been the same. Along with the men left the life, the laughter, and then the rains had gone too, leaving the village to the merciless heat until the sun burned the green from the grass, took the chill out of the wind, dried up the fertile land and all that was left was dust.

Sensu had left with the men, his parting fresh in the mind of his family. Their youngest son, Lee, was safe for now, thank goodness, but in a few years’ time, even he…

Gansu looked up from his work, thoughts cut off by the sounds of his son returning from the market. He looked closer, and Lee wasn’t alone.

“You a friend of Lee’s?” he asked the man, who, now that he looked closer, looked to be the same age as Sensu had been back then.

Lee grabbed his father’s arm excitedly.

“This guy just stood up to the soldiers! By the end, he practically had them running away!”

Gansu resisted the urge to chuckle – he knew his son was prone to exaggeration. Still, if this stranger had done even a tenth of the things his son had said, he was more than worthy of respect.

Sela came up to join him, wiping her hands on a rag.

“Does this guy have a name?” she asked.

“I’m... uh...”

“He doesn’t have to say who he is if he doesn’t want to, Sela. Anyone who can hold his own against those bully soldiers is welcome here. Those men should be ashamed to wear Earth Kingdom uniforms.”

The man had a right to privacy, Gansu thought – after all, he'd stood up for his son.

“The real soldiers are off fighting the war, like Lee’s big brother Sensu,” said Sela. “Supper’s going to be ready soon. Would you like to stay?”

“I can’t,” said the man. “I should be moving on.”

That tone. Gansu knew what that tone meant only too well, having heard it from his elder son more times than he could count – independence. The stranger was hungry, he could tell, but he wasn’t going to ask for food, didn’t want to feel like a freeloader. He looked the type, too: determination shone through in his eyes, under the veil of exhaustion and the shadow of his straw hat, and Gansu knew he was the type to fend for himself. Luckily, Sela understood that as well as he did.

“Gansu could use some help on the barn,” she said. “Why don’t you two work for a while, and then we'll eat.”

The stranger nodded, and so it was settled. Gansu led him to the barn, gave him a hammer, and together, they started re-shingling the roof.

An hour passed, though Gansu only needed a minute to tell that the stranger wasn’t used to this kind of work. The way he held the hammer was all wrong, and broken nails lay scattered in front of him, going everywhere but the places they needed to be. It’s not like Gansu minded. It would only take another hour to fix the stranger’s mistakes; though he wasn’t a good worker, it was evident that he was trying his best, and, together with the fact that the stranger had stood up to the soldiers, Gansu figured it was worth the extra time as long as they got to thank the stranger with a meal. It was almost dinnertime now, and Lee had come up to the barn, presumably to tell them to hurry up and finish so they could eat. However, Lee had gotten distracted in the mystery of his new friend.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” said Lee, resting on the ladder as he watched the stranger.

“Mm-mm,” responded the stranger.

“Where are you from then?”

“Far away.”

“Ohhh. Where are you going?”

“Lee, give it a rest,” interrupted Gansu. “Stop asking the man personal questions, got it?” The man obviously wasn’t going to answer them, anyway.

“Yes,” sighed Lee. He was quiet for a minute, and then – “So how'd you get that scar?”

The stranger swung down his hammer a little too hard, obviously surprised by the question. Gansu was glad his son was a curious child, really, he was, but right then, he just wished Lee would get the hint.

“It’s not nice to bother people about things they might not want to talk about,” he explained. “A man’s past is his business.”

Finally, Lee understood, climbing down the ladder and walking away as Gansu went back to hammering.

A minute later, Lee returned, remembering about dinner at last.

* * *

All throughout dinner, and deep into the evening and the night, Zuko thought back to his past. It wasn’t a topic he particularly enjoyed thinking about – he’d been sad a lot right after his mom left, and Azula had called it a weakness so many times back then he’d almost started to believe it. Anyway, what was the point of briefly reliving a happy memory? He'd only find himself forced back into harsh reality afterwards, losing his mom all over again. Still, he’d seen her today, flashes of her brought back by the daze of the afternoon sun, and now, he couldn’t ignore how much he missed her.

She'd always been so kind to him, even when he messed up. Even when he’d tried to imitate Azula – the so-called perfect child – throwing bread at the baby turtle ducks, aiming for their heads, and his mother had looked so shocked and disappointed when he hit one – even then, she hadn’t raised her voice, hadn’t yelled, hadn’t looked at him like he was dirt on her shoe the way his father did. She'd hugged him… made him laugh… He wished he could see her smile like that just one more time.

Spending time with his mother was much better than spending time with Azula, and he wished his mother didn’t always make him play with her. Just like hit-the-target with the turtle ducks, her games had always included some aspect of violence to them; if they didn’t, Azula simply wasn’t interested. Well, he supposed it hadn’t _always_ been like that… But those times of peaceful games were long, long gone.

Azula had made him play with her and her friends once, he remembered – “We _are_ brother and sister. It’s important for us to spend time together! Don’t you think so, Mom?” – she'd said, and she was so clearly manipulating Mom to try and get her way, and his mom, still clinging on to the hope that they could be a normal family, had relented, and so he was forced to join in. At first, before Azula had explained the rules, he’d hoped it didn’t involve cartwheeling. When he walked home, drenched in fountain-water after knocking a burning apple off Mai's head, he wished the game had involved anything but this. And of course, all Azula did was laugh. Always laughing at him, at Uncle, at Mom, even – and nobody in the world meant anything to her except their father.

Later that day, they received a letter from Uncle, sent from the war front in Ba Sing Se.

“If the city is as magnificent as its wall, Ba Sing Se must be something to behold. I hope you all may see it someday, if we don’t burn it to the ground first! Until then, enjoy these gifts. For Zuko, a pearl dagger from the general who surrendered when we broke through the Outer Wall. Note the inscription and the superior craftsmanship. And for Azula, a new friend. She wears the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls.”

His mother had read the letter out loud to them, and they’d laughed at first, before inspecting the gifts brought to them.

Zuko had been very pleased with his dagger. He wasn’t close to his uncle back then, what with him always being away on important war duties, but nevertheless, it felt like Uncle had somehow known exactly what Zuko wanted. Azula, on the other hand…

“If Uncle doesn’t make it back from war, then Dad will be next in line for Fire Lord, wouldn’t he?”

...

“I still think our dad would make a much better Fire Lord than His Royal Tea-Loving Kookiness.”

She’d started at the doll in disgust, then set it on fire, another one of Uncle’s gifts set ablaze, a wall of ashes between them. He supposed his uncle had never understood Azula, not really, but still, the doll had been sent with the best intentions in mind – and surely a bad gift wasn’t an excuse to _literally want him dead?_

Thoughts racing through his head, Zuko didn’t manage to fall asleep. He supposed he was somewhat relieved, thankful, even, when Lee came sneaking into the barn, took his Dual Dao swords, and then ran off. It was a nice distraction from the memories, and anyway… For a second, he thought back to the dagger his uncle had given him, one he’d kept to this day. Zuko had always loved knives and swords, and this kid… Evidently, the kid loved them too. Some strange sense of obligation made Zuko follow the kid and, knowing he wouldn’t get any sleep tonight anyway, he didn’t resist.

He found Lee practicing in a sunflower garden – the last remaining sign of life in this decrepit village. The boy was jumping around, chopping the heads off the flowers, clearly having no idea what he was doing. Soon, he started stabbing a nearby dead tree trunk, breathing heavily with the effort. Lee still hadn’t seen him, and Zuko could still turn back if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to, so he didn’t. Instead, he walked up to the boy, startling him as he spoke.

“You’re holding them wrong.”

Lee fell backwards in surprise, then got back up, and held out the swords to Zuko. Zuko took them, looking at the boy's face, flushed in breathlessness and shame in the moonlight – and he knew what it felt like.

The very first time he'd been caught playing with swords… He was still young then, only eight, with no knowledge of the art whatsoever. He’d been careless enough to leave the door to the weapons room open, and his father had walked in, wondering what was going on. Immediately, Zuko had stopped, shivers down his spine, and he’d swiftly handed the swords back to Father, the shame on his face louder than his mumbled apology. His father had said nothing. Absolutely nothing, but the look in his eyes had spoken for him. _You’re weak, Zuko. A disappointment. Playing with swords like a non-bender, and you’re not even good at it. The Royal Family deserves a better heir._ And Zuko was used to it, but somehow it still hurt. He didn’t want Lee to hurt the way he had.

“Keep in mind, these are dual swords,” he told the boy. “Two halves of a single weapon. Don’t think of them as separate, cause they’re not. They’re just two different parts of the same whole.”

He swung the swords around carefully, demonstrating the proper technique to Lee. When he was done and a few sunflower heads lay on the ground, he handed the swords back to Lee to try.

This time, Lee was more careful. A little more focused, a little less awkward. Not _good_ by any means but… Zuko had been like that too once, déjà vu passing over him as he watched the boy get the same things right, make the same mistakes that he once had.

When Lee turned to Zuko at last, having finished his mini demonstration, Zuko couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips.

* * *

Morning came at last, sunlight settling over the farm, a pleasant breeze in the air before the heat kicked in, and Zuko had to leave. Sitting on his ostrich horse, he looked down at the family that all came to see him off.

“Here,” said Sela, reaching up to offer him a package, “This ought to get you through a few meals.”

For a second, Zuko hesitated, wondering whether the work he’d done yesterday was really enough to compensate for these people’s kindness. But then – he had no money anymore – and somehow, accepting gifts from this family didn’t feel as wrong. So, he reached out to grab the package, but was immediately interrupted by a noise, accompanied by a cloud of dust in the distance. It was the soldier from yesterday, accompanied by his friends. Gansu stepped forward.

“What for you think they want?” he asked, already knowing the answer before Zuko said the word.

“Trouble.”

The soldiers rode on through the farm on their ostrich horses, pigs squealing at their arrival, and stopped right in front of the family and Zuko.

“What do you want, Gow?” Gansu said.

“Just thought someone ought to tell you that your son's battalion got captured.” He turned to the other soldiers. “You boys hear what the Fire Nation did with their last group of Earth Kingdom prisoners?”

One of the soldiers answered. “Dressed ‘em up in Fire Nation uniforms and put ‘em on the front line unarmed, the way I heard it. Then they just watched.”

For a second, Zuko froze. What _– no way!_ – that was downright cruel and his country wouldn’t do that. These soldiers were just trying to get a rise out of the family, lying to get a reaction. And yet… The memory came back before he could stop it. That day in the war meeting… that General had been more than willing to sacrifice his own people. So, when it came to people from other countries… _No._ No, it couldn’t be, they were just lying. But lies didn’t mean it didn’t hurt anyway, and Zuko couldn’t help but feel sorry for this family – their son captured, maybe even dead.

Before the soldiers could say any more, Zuko rode in front of them, blocking them off from the family. He stared at Gow, and he stared back, until finally, the soldier backed down.

“Why bother rooting around in the mud with these pigs?” he said, and with that, they all rode off, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

For a while, Zuko sat with the family in silence. He knew what it was like, losing a loved one, and he remembered the day that the news reached them that Lu Ten had passed away.

For once, he'd been getting along with Azula, playing together while his mom sat in front of the fountain. A messenger had approached them, dressed in white, and Zuko got the feeling that something awful was about to happen – and then his mom had read the letter and stood up and she was _crying_ – he’d never seen her cry before. Turning to them, she spoke, the words sounding clear in his head as if she was still there, still delivering the awful news:

“Iroh has lost his son. Your cousin Lu Ten did not survive the battle.”

And that had been his _cousin_ , who he was close to but only saw occasionally. For this family, it was their son, Lee's brother… Gansu and Sela hugged behind him, and he stood still in front of the family, as if his protective stance could help them now.

Eventually, Lee spoke.

“What’s going to happen to my brother?” he asked, and Zuko wondered if Lee genuinely didn’t know, or if he was pretending not to, putting off the realization for just a little bit longer.

“I’m going to the front,” said Gansu suddenly. “I’m going to find Sensu and bring him back.”

He walked away and Sela didn’t stop him, following her husband as her body shook with tears. His parents gone, Lee ran up towards Zuko.

“When my dad goes… will you stay?”

“No. I need to move on.”

He wished he could stay – in the short day they’d been together, he’d grown attached to this kid – and maybe that was the exact reason he needed to go. Still, he couldn’t leave Lee alone completely.

“Here. I want you to have this,” he said, reaching behind him and taking out a dagger – the same one he'd received from Iroh all those years ago. “Read the inscription.”

Lee unsheathed the dagger and read: “Made in Earth Kingdom.”

“The other one.”

“Never give up without a fight.”

That message had got Zuko through the toughest times, and now, it would help Lee do the same. He rode away, Lee running after him for a bit, but then he stopped, tired and out of breath, and Zuko rode on. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kid he’d left behind – just a kid, too young to be exposed to the horrors of war, exposed to them anyway because the world was a harsh, cruel place, and all anyone ever did was look out for themselves.

He'd learned that lesson when he was eleven.

He'd been playing with his dagger, acting like he was up against an actual opponent, when Azula came in. As usual, she’d mocked him for his lack of skill – by then, he _was_ skilled but Azula never missed an opportunity to say something nasty, but then she stopped and told him Uncle was coming home. Not in the ‘yay! We won the war!’ way of coming home, but in the “quitter and a loser" way – and Azula had never passed up a chance to be horrible to their uncle, either. Of course, she didn’t care that Lu Ten, Uncle's only child, was gone forever.

She didn’t care about Lu Ten, or about Uncle, and she didn’t care about Zuko, either. He supposed he should have been thankful that she saved him from the embarrassment of not knowing the answer to his father’s question: “How was it Great-Grandfather Sozin managed to win the Battle of Han Tui?” He should have known that – he’d learned all about it only last week – but all these details never managed to stay in his head for more than a few hours, and even if they did, they’d inevitably disappear as soon as his father asked him about them, anyway. And now, in front of Fire Lord Azulon, all he could do was sit there, worried and confused, too stressed to remember but trying anyway.

Azula ended up giving the correct answer: “Because even though his army was outnumbered, he cleverly calculated his advantages. The enemy was downwind and there was a drought. Their defenses burned to a crisp in minutes.”

Perfect, precise, concise – like hearing it read straight from the textbook. Azula had saved him from embarrassing himself any more than he already had, and he knew he should probably be thanking her – almost did, back there – but then she’d demonstrated her firebending to Azulon – leagues beyond his own despite her age – and she’d sat back down next to him afterwards and whispered that he'd never catch up, and he knew then that she was only doing it for herself. Always letting him know how much better she was, at everything. Letting Father know, too, until he considered Zuko the family failure. Maybe that was the reason he liked his swords so much. It was the one thing Azula couldn’t outshine him on at every opportunity she had.

Despite Azula’s impressive display, he'd decided to demonstrate his own skills, anyway. He knew he couldn’t top her – but still, he couldn’t be _that_ much worse, had to be _decent_ , at least.

It turned out that he wasn’t. At least, not by the standards of his father. All that happened was a small fire blast – embarrassingly small, for the Royal Family, and then he'd tried again – _never give up without a fight_ – but he fell, and then he tried yet again and fell once more.

“I failed,” he’d said, and of course he had – what did he expect? – but his mother was there for him, always supporting him, comforting him even now when he'd made a fool of himself in front of the Fire Lord.

“No. I loved watching you,” she’d said. “That’s who you are, Zuko. Someone who keeps fighting even though it’s hard.”

And those words had stuck with him too, just like the inscription on the dagger – because even if he couldn’t reach great heights with little to no effort the way Azula could, the forces of nature against him since his very birth, then he'd get there anyway through persistence and sheer force of will, and the fight would only make him stronger.

He wished he could be strong later that evening, when Azula came into their room, singing “Dad's going to kill you!”

He’d stayed behind with her to hear Father speak to Fire Lord Azulon, and he knew that conversation had only added to his father’s already very bad mood. He wouldn’t be allowed to take the throne, for one – and Zuko had secretly been relieved at that – Iroh had suffered enough and deserved his rightful place as Fire Lord. Besides, the thought had crept into Zuko’s head even back then – how would a ruler unable to empathize with his own brother ever be able to empathize with his people? – and he knew it was wrong to think that about his own father, and what would Father even say if he knew? – probably nothing, he barely spoke to Zuko anymore at all – but still, he couldn’t help but be glad Azulon had refused the offer. But then… of _course_ it was too early to feel relief, and Father was probably in an awful mood, and he must have remembered Zuko's failed attempt at firebending and blamed it all on him. And… _was_ it his fault?

Zuko shuddered as he looked at Azula’s face – “Really, he is,” she’d said next – he _is_ going to kill you. And _of course_ it was his fault – if he’d just been a better bender, given a better demonstration, then Azulon would have been in a better mood, wouldn’t have rejected Father, or at least, he wouldn’t have done it so harshly. A little voice sounded inside Zuko then – _it isn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong –_ but it was better to blame himself than to believe that, no matter how hard he tried and how innocent he was, his father hated him and was going to kill him _anyway_.

Then again… no, this was all too stupid. He might not have been Father’s favorite, but his father also wasn’t a murderer, especially not one that would kill his own children. He wanted to slap himself – how could he ever have believed Azula – and he said: “Haha, Azula. Nice try.” – and tried his hardest to find any traces of dishonesty in her voice.

“Fine, don’t believe me. But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad's punishment should fit his crime. ‘You must know the pain of losing a first-born son. By sacrificing your own!’”

“Liar!”

And she was so good at lying, even better this time than usual – because despite her skills, he was her brother and could still tell when she wasn’t quite being honest – except this time, the usual tells weren’t there.

“I’m only telling you for your own good,” she’d said. “I know! Maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you!”

Brought back to the present for a moment, Zuko thought about that statement. _A nice Earth Kingdom family._ How oddly appropriate.

“Stop it!” he'd said, “You’re lying! Dad would never do that to me!” – and he wasn’t sure if he was just arguing with Azula at this point, or trying to convince himself.

Then, his mom had come, and the conversation was over. She led Azula away for a talk and Zuko had remained seated on his bed.

“Azula always lies. Azula always lies,” he repeated to himself. But no matter how many times he uttered those words, whispering to himself until the early hours of the morning, he still couldn’t get rid of the terrible feeling that maybe, just maybe, Azula had been telling the truth.

* * *

Her husband was gone and she wasn’t sure for how long – forever, maybe, and Sela wiped the tears from her eyes on the way back to the farm, staying strong for Lee.

She supposed it was inevitable that he would leave, he’d been lucky enough not to get conscripted when the first waves of soldiers left, anyway. It had always been just a matter of time, a lingering thought at the back of everyone’s mind through all these years. Still… knowing what would come didn’t make it any easier when he rode away, kissing her with the promise that he'd return with Sensu, though both of them knew that the promise was not his to make. She didn’t know _whose_ promise it was to make. The spirits? She used to ask them for help, long ago, when Sensu was still a boy, sitting down in the corner of her kitchen, head turned towards the sun, and then towards the moon, to the river, to the forest, to everything she could think of. Nothing ever came of it, or at least it didn’t seem like it, not anymore. If any spirit had ever looked out for the village, it had left with the men, with the rains, with the life, all those years ago, and they were on their own now, and _she_ was on her own. And without Gansu… she didn’t even want to know what Gow would do now that her husband was gone.

She didn’t want to know but she found out anyway. Not even an hour after her husband’s departure, Gow had showed up at her door, demanding her to give him food. She’d come out onto the porch with Lee, eyes still puffy from the tears, and they didn’t have a lot of food anyway, and now they had to give it up for free. Gow was in the wrong, obviously, but what could they do? Just a woman and a child, alone against several combat-trained men.

Then, Lee had done something she’d never expected. She saw the glint of metal in his pocket, but it didn’t register until the knife was out – a dagger that her son held, pointed right at Gow's face – or as close as Lee could get, anyway.

It was a horrific sight. It wasn’t even the thought of how Gow would react that did it, it was the fact that her son, a _child_ , had pulled a knife on people. He was ready to hurt them. Where did that knife even come from? – she thought – but that wasn’t important, because her son was threatening the men, and he looked so small compared to them, the tip of the knife barely grazing their beards, and only if he jumped. So small, forced to grow up too soon, adult anger and determination in his eyes. All because of these thugs. And, ultimately, because of the Fire Nation.

The soldiers took him away after that.

“If he’s old enough to fight, he's old enough to join the army.”

Despite his display of courage, he wasn’t old enough, nowhere near. But what could she do? She watched the soldiers take the boy away, and she was small, not at all trained in fighting, and there were no weapons nearby. All she could do was hope that the soldiers were just messing around, would leave Lee be after a while. But still… she had to do _something_ , and there _was_ someone who could help.

The stranger hadn’t gone far, and Sela found him easily on her ostrich horse. She’d told him what happened, pleaded him to help, and she was so relieved when he agreed.

“I’ll get your son back,” he said, and they set off back towards the village, together.

* * *

Zuko didn’t think twice before going to help Lee. It was just the right thing to do – after all, this family had been so nice to him, and it was an opportunity to take the soldiers down a notch. And, even deeper than that… The boy had just been trying to help his mother. Zuko would have done the same.

The sun was setting when he arrived back in the village, colors blazing in the sky as he rode into the center. He saw Lee immediately – tied up to the tower, small and hopeless against the soldiers, and yet – he perked up as soon as he saw Zuko.

“Hey! There he is!” he shouted excitedly, “I told you he'd come!”

The soldiers approached Zuko now, and Zuko dismounted his ostrich horse, taking off his hat. It was heading towards a fight, and Zuko hadn’t thought it would come to that when he’d first arrived at the village the day before, thought he'd buy some food and leave, but now, Lee was in trouble and a confrontation was inevitable.

“Let the kid go,” he said.

Gow laughed, but quickly regained his composure.

“Who do you think you are, telling us what to do?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. But I know who you are. You’re not soldiers; you’re bullies. Freeloaders, abusing your power. Mostly over women and kids.” He'd started, and now, he couldn’t stop. “You don’t want Lee in your army – you’re sick cowards messing with a family who’s already lost one son to the war.”

“Are you gonna let this stranger stand there and insult you like this?” said Gow to a fellow soldier, and of course he wouldn’t fight himself, thought Zuko – he really was nothing more than a coward.

The soldier fell for the manipulation, and ran forward, spear in hand. Zuko could take him, no problem. He dodged the man's attack, then pulled out his sword, punching the man in the stomach with the hilt. He re-sheathed his sword and the man ran away, panting in fear. For all his supposed strength against Sela and Lee, the man was weak and pathetic. Just like the man who'd made Iroh dance for money. Cowards, all of them, all exactly the same – strong, until their opponent stood up for themselves, and then they shook and ran away in fear.

A second soldier ran to attack Zuko, and again, Zuko defeated him easily. Punching the spear out of the way, he grabbed the man's forehead, and pushed him to the ground. Unsurprisingly, the man gave up as well, scrambling to get up and running away, his eyes filled with fear.

The third soldier was no different. As the solder ran up to him, Zuko stood there waiting until the man’s spear was close enough, and then he kicked it right down the middle, snapping it. Half of it went flying, the other half remaining in the soldier’s hands, and he gasped, and also ran away.

A crowd had gathered by now. Looks of feelings somewhere between worry and excitement appeared on their faces as they looked on at the two men facing each other in the street – Zuko, to them a brave stranger, and Gow, to them a bully and a thug. It was obvious who they were rooting for.

With the last of his soldiers gone, Gow stepped up to fight Zuko. Dual hammers at the ready, up against Zuko's dual swords, he threw the first blow: a rock, flying over at Zuko. He deflected it, but it wasn’t easy this time, and his arms strained under the impact. Gow attacked again, this time with three large rocks. Sending them at Zuko in rapid succession, he watched as two of them were deflected, and the third one reached its target. Zuko stumbled backwards, hit square in the stomach. Even so, he'd dealt with worse than this. Gow needed to be taken down, and he would be the one to do it – and so he charged at him, now cheered on by the crowd.

More rocks came flying at him as he ran, deflecting the first two, but the third one hit him once again, and he fell backwards. Weakened by the blow, he got up, stumbling as he did do but not giving up, not yet.

All Gow did was smile.

“Look out!” yelled an old man from the crowd.

“Behind you!” shouted Lee.

Gow attacked again, the rocks flying at Zuko getting larger and larger with each blow, and all he could do was defend himself, sending them into the sky with his swords. It was getting harder and harder to fight now – he could have taken on Gow with just the hammers easily, but his swords were no match for boulders, and with each hit, he found it harder and harder to go on. Gow was advancing now, moving closer towards Zuko and with each step, a new rock flew at him – and he was beginning to panic now – what if he really couldn’t do it, wasn’t strong enough to take Gow? He couldn’t show weakness, not now, but deep down, weakness was all he felt – he couldn’t protect a child from one stupid earthbender.

The ground shook where he stood, and no rocks were coming at him now – nothing in the air to deflect and all he could do was watch. The ground trembled more and more, a mini earthquake beneath his feet – and then the ground shot up, rocks forming into a wall that came straight towards him – and then the rocks shot up right from under him, and there was nothing he could do. As he flew back from the impact, he heard the crowd gasp, and as he landed on his back, his last thought was whether Lee would be safe as his vision went dark.

* * *

Just like this morning, in the darkness, he saw his mother. He felt the flashback now, vivid as if was happening at this very minute, and he was eleven, asleep in his bed. A hand gently touched his shoulder, and he woke up, drowsily looking up at the person.

“…Mom?” he whispered.

“Zuko, please, my love, listen to me.” she spoke softly, gentler than ever before, and he wished that he'd known back then why her voice sounded so sad, or why her words had a finality to them he’d been too young to recognize.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you,” she said, pulling him into a hug, and he hadn’t understood that either, just wanting to go back to sleep.

“Remember this, Zuko,” she went on. “No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.”

She released him, and he closed his eyes, listening to her footsteps disappear into the hallway. And then, that was it. The last time he'd ever seen his mother. And those were her last words to him.

_“Never forget who you are.”_

* * *

Gow raised his hammers to deliver the final blow when Zuko finally opened his eyes. He had to take Gow down, and his mother’s words rung in his head, and he hadn’t forgotten.

_Never forget who you are._

He was Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation. He still had a shot, and Gow was nothing against him – a fool, a coward, a weakling. He could take him on easy, and he could take the rest of the world as well. Reaching for his swords, he got up, firebending as he rose. A hurricane of flames swirled around him, raging and bright, and Gow dropped his hammers and fell, landing on his back.

When Gow got up, Zuko was ready, no longer on the defense. Gow raised his fists, determined to finish the fight, but Zuko ran at him, sending fire blasts as he approached. Gow's earthbending couldn’t save him now, and it didn’t, flames sending him back once again, right into a wall. Rocks fell onto his head as a cloud of dust rose up around him. He'd been defeated in seconds, and a little bit of fire was all it took.

Why had he forgotten who he was? It was all so much easier now that he remembered. He would regain his honor, because he was the Prince, so of course he would – he was still the Prince and he was gonna be proud of it. Gow trembled as Zuko took back his dagger – _Lee's_ dagger, now – and the trembling was good, let Gow fear him.

“Who… who are you?” said Gow, and Zuko didn’t need to think before responding.

“My name is Zuko. Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. Prince of the Fire Nation and heir to the throne.”

The words flowed so easily, so naturally, and he wouldn’t hide it anymore. He didn’t care what people said – he was who he was, and he had nothing to be ashamed of, not in front of _these_ people.

“Liar!” called an old man in the crowd, “I’ve heard of you! You’re not a prince, you’re an outcast! His own father burned and disowned him!”

Even when the old man spoke, Zuko didn’t waver. That was in the past, and it didn’t matter anymore.

_Never forget who you are._

Lee, at least, would understand him. Maybe the old man didn’t, and neither did the crowd, and neither did Sela, demanding he didn’t come a step closer towards her son – but Zuko didn’t care, because surely, Lee would have to understand. Zuko had helped him, after all, not ratted him out, taught him to fight, had saved him from the thugs –he'd helped save this whole town from the oppression of the Earth Kingdom soldiers, just like the Fire Nation was trying to do to the world – all his father wanted was prosperity for all the nations, united in peace under his rule.

Zuko knelt down in front of Sela and offered the knife to Lee, who peeked around from behind his mother's back.

“It’s yours,” he said. “You should have it."

Surely Lee would understand.

“No!” said Lee. “I hate you!”

But he didn’t. The boy didn’t understand and he’d said it himself: he _hated_ him, because nobody ever understood him, not his sister, not his uncle, not that stupid girl from the ship, and not this kid. For a minute, kneeling there, rejection fresh in his mind, he felt alone again, him against the world, just like the day he’d woken up to find his mother gone. He was lost, and alone, and nobody cared.

_Never forget who you are._

Remembering who he was had just made things worse, but then… Of course it had. These people thought the Fire Nation were monsters, because the war had ruined their lives, taken their families, their livelihoods, their means of survival. So then – what must they think of him? And, more importantly… were they right?

No. Of course they weren’t. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself now, to feel bad for them. The war couldn’t happen without casualties, and that was just the harsh reality of life.

And still, he’d made things worse. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it hurt that Lee had betrayed him. The thought came again – had he done the right thing after all? – but he banished that thought from his mind. Of course he had. And now, since his work here was done and these people clearly didn’t appreciate his help, it was finally time to leave.

* * *

Lee stood and watched as his friend rode out of the village – though he supposed the man wasn’t his friend anymore. Prince Zuko was his name… Prince of the nation that was the reason for his brother leaving, for his father leaving, for his mother crying every night when she thought he was asleep and couldn’t hear her. People were dying every single day, villages like his were slowly fading out of existence, and every day the war went on, the hope in people’s eyes went away, replaced by bleak despair.

How horrible it was that he'd asked the man to stay. How disgusting that he’d almost seen him as a brother – it was a bad idea to trust him. His real brother… goodness knows what awful things he'd faced, if he was even still alive, and if he wasn’t, it was all because of people like Prince Zuko.

What right did he have to stand there so proudly, surrounded in flames, shouting his sins to the world? Jerk, thought Lee. Jerk, liar, murderer. He hated him. His eyes followed Zuko as he rode out of the village, and then he couldn’t bear to look anymore, and so he turned away.

* * *

Zuko rode off into the sunset, and finally, that village was behind him. Still, he couldn’t say the village was a complete waste of time. It _had_ helped him find himself, after all.

_Never forget who you are._

The words echoed in his head, and he understood them – he was the Prince, the heir to the throne, son of the Fire Lord. And that all meant, he still had a chance. He had a chance, and he could still regain his honor, because his father was still his father, and if only Zuko captured the Avatar – because it still wasn’t too late – if he could do that, then his father would love him again.

_Who you are._

His father loved him – he was sure of it – deep down, in his own way. And Zuko would show Father that he was deserving of that love, and wasn’t a failure – for once, he would do something right.

Still, a feeling of uncertainty crept over him – the same uncertainty he’d felt five years ago, kneeling on the palace stairs, watching the crown be placed in his father’s hair.

“Hail Fire Lord Ozai!” the Fire Sages had yelled, and Father was the new ruler of the country. He should have been happy back then, but he wasn’t – he was _scared_ : his cousin and grandpa dead, his mother gone, his father granted absolute power. He watched his father, eyes wide with fear, not knowing where life would take him.

He didn’t know why he got that feeling now. After all, he knew where he was going. Back to capturing the Avatar, and that just meant he’d have to find Azula, and she’d lead him straight to his target.

The last rays of the sun died on his back, cooling down as he rode further and further on until the sunset faded out of the sky. The land around him was barren and empty, the trees were few and far between, and dry weeds poked their way through the sand. The world was quiet now, drifting off into the dark serenity of the night, and Zuko finally had a purpose again other than just survival – a _real_ goal.

He would capture the Avatar, and hand the boy over to his father, and then his father would look at him with the same pride in his eyes as he did with Azula. He would show Father that he was still deserving of love, and then, Father would love him, because despite everything that happened in the past, Zuko was still his son.

_Who you are._

He was his father’s son, he thought, and Father could still love him. That’s what Mom must have meant. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A controversial take on this episode, I know. A lot of people see Zuko’s confession as a positive breakthrough but, watching the episode, I found it really hard to see that for myself. This is my personal interpretation, and I hope it made sense to y'all.


	19. Pardon vs Payback

Just before sundown, Appa landed in a clearing close to a lake, which gave Katara a bit of time to practice waterbending with (y/n). Normally, she would have just helped the others to set up camp early, but with the way things were going with (y/n) at this point, Katara figured she needed all the practice opportunities she could get. So, while Toph messed around with the boys in Appa's fur, Katara led (y/n) out into the lake, and they began.

“Okay, (y/n), same thing as usual. Just push the water along, gently guide it away from you,” she said, demonstrating as she spoke.

(y/n) did so, copying Katara’s movements as accurately as she could. Katara watched her intently, making corrections where she could, and eventually, (y/n) was able to produce a small ripple.

“Good job, (y/n), but try to pull it up next time, try making a wave, even if it’s a small one,” instructed Katara. “The thing about water is – you have to keep it going once you have it moving. It’s different from the other elements that way – it’s constantly flowing and changing. “

(y/n) tried again, creating another, slightly bigger ripple, but still, once it was made, she could no longer control it.

“One quick movement isn't enough the way you do it with other elements – you need to keep the water moving constantly,” explained Katara. “That means you always need to be adapting to it as you bend. It requires a lot of concentration and control – that's what makes water difficult, but it also makes it incredibly versatile. Try again, but really make sure to concentrate this time.”

(y/n) tried, though to be honest, at this point, she wasn’t expecting anything to happen. Still, she focused hard on the water, moving exactly as Katara had told her to, and when the usual ripple began to form, her focus didn’t break. Slowly, she moved her hands up towards her, trying to pull the water up, and this time, to her surprise, it actually worked. She'd finally managed to create a small wave that she pushed and pulled for a few seconds, until she blinked, and the water fell back into the lake.

“I – I actually got it to move this time!” exclaimed (y/n) excitedly.

“Wow! Well done, (y/n), you’re really improving!”

“Only took me two weeks of practice,” laughed (y/n).

“Don’t worry about it. Mastering an element takes years of practice. You’re doing really well!”

“Thanks! Anyway, what should we try next?”

For the next thirty minutes, they continued to practice, with (y/n) finally being able to create small waves. She wasn’t sure why the change, small as it was, had happened now, but she was too happy to question it. Katara, on the other hand, couldn’t help her thoughts drifting to (y/n)’s comment. _Two weeks…_ She wasn’t disappointed, was happy for (y/n) even, but still, the thought troubled her. Aang had managed to do it within a minute, even surpassing her own skills, and, except for the Avatar State, (y/n) should by all means have the same abilities as him… So then, why had it taken her so long to finally get it?

By the time waterbending practice was over and the two had rejoined the rest of the group to help them set up camp, the thought had filtered out of Katara’s head. Right now, she thought, there were more pressing things to worry about. As Aang finished setting up the tent and (y/n) helped Sokka with the cooking, Katara approached Toph, who was slumped against a rock, lazily chewing a piece of wheat.

“So Toph, usually when setting up camp, we try to divide up the work.” Katara said, hoping that would be enough and Toph would understand.

She didn’t. “Hey, don’t worry about me,” she shrugged. “I’m good to go.”

Katara tried again: “Well, actually what I’m trying to say is, some of us might fetch water, while someone else might set up the fire pit, or put up the tent. Even Momo does his fair share,” she added as Momo dropped some berries in her hand.

“Katara, I’m fine. I can carry my own weight. I don’t need a fire, I’ve already collected my own food and look,” Toph earthbended two slabs of rock over her, “My tent's all set up.”

By this point, Katara was starting to get irritated. Did Toph really not get it? Now that she was a part of the group, thought Katara, she had to pitch in too.

“Well, that’s great for you,” she said, “but we still need to finish –”

“I don’t understand what’s the problem here!”

Katara sighed. It’s not that Toph didn’t understand, she thought, it’s that she didn’t want to understand and didn’t want to help. However, everything was already almost done, so they could have that conversation tomorrow.

“Never mind,” said Katara, walking away.

* * *

Toph sat in her tent, feeling the vibrations of everything that was moving around her. There was actually a lot happening in the forest nearby, new and interesting creatures that couldn’t be seen by the others – but she could feel everything. It was hard to be bored now that she was in an actual forest for once, away from the boring streets of Gaoling, or the oppressive security of her home. What made it even better was the newfound feeling of independence. This feeling was different from when she snuck off to Earth Rumble tournaments — though she could lose herself in the moment of fighting, the thought always lingered at the back of her mind that, eventually, she would have to return home. But now… this was what real freedom felt like, and it was exhilarating. She was finally independent, and nobody could take that away from her. Though, of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try, she thought, sensing Katara’s footsteps coming towards her tent.

“Hey Toph, I wanted to apologize for earlier.” Katara’s voice seemed sweet and genuine, but from the vibrations, Toph could tell something was off. The feeling was confirmed by Katara's next words: “I think we’re all just a little tired and getting on each other’s nerves.”

“Yeah,” responded Toph, “You do seem pretty tired.”

“I meant all of us.”

Toph lay down in her tent, not wanting to have this conversation. She knew people like Katara – like her parents – overbearing, constantly thinking they were right, thinking that she needed to be helped and protected like a little child, that she couldn’t handle things as simple as camping. There was no reasoning with these kinds of people, and anyway, Toph didn’t feel bothered enough to try.

“Well, good night,” she said.

“Good night.”

Irritated, Katara turned around and left, and Toph was alone again, just the way she liked it. Not thinking about the conversation any further, she quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, she woke up. Something wasn’t right, and with every passing second, it became more and more apparent that whatever it was wouldn’t just go away. She pressed her hand to the ground to feel the vibrations – just what was this thing, exactly? – but her senses told her nothing except that she should probably alert the others. Toph rose to her feet and ran out of the tent.

“There’s something coming towards us!” she shouted, waking the others up.

“What is it?” asked Aang.

She pressed her hand to the ground once more, hoping that the vibrations would be clearer this time. They were not.

“It feels like an avalanche, but also not an avalanche,” she said.

Sokka rubbed his eyes. “Your powers of perception are frightening.”

“Should we leave?” asked Katara.

“Better safe than sorry.”

They gathered up their supplies and scrambled onto Appa, wanting to escape the unknown threat as quickly as possible. From the air, they saw a cloud of smoke in the distance, moving towards them.

“What is that thing?” asked Katara.

She received no answer. None of them knew.

* * *

A short flight later, and Katara was ready to go back to sleep. Unfortunately for her, that meant setting up camp once again, which meant –

“Ah, land sweet land!” exclaimed Toph, lying down straight on the ground. “See you guys in the morning!”

Katara sighed, knowing another confrontation was inevitable. As much as she didn’t want to start a fight, it frustrated her that, after all they’d done for Toph, she still insisted on acting like she wasn’t a part of the group.

“Actually,” said Katara, “Can you help us unload?”

“Really? You need _me_ to help unload Sokka's funky-smelling sleeping bag?”

“Well, yeah. That and everything else.” Katara suppressed a sigh. She really wasn’t asking Toph for much. “You’re a part of our team now, and –”

“Look!” shouted Toph suddenly, pointing a finger at Katara. “I didn’t ask you to help unload my stuff! I’m carrying my own weight.”

“That’s not the point. Ever since you joined us, you’ve been nothing but selfish and unhelpful!”

“What? Look here, sugar queen. I gave up everything I had so that I could teach Aang earthbending. So don’t you talk to me about being selfish!”

With that, Toph earthbended a tent over herself, leaving Katara to stare at it in rage.

“Sugar queen?!”

Toph bended a rock to close the door of the tent.

“D-did you just slam the door in my face? How can you be so infuriating!”

For a few more seconds, Katara stood at the door of the tent, thinking about the argument. _Carrying her own weight, yeah right_ , she thought, _what a great excuse for being lazy_ _and uncooperative._ And, of course, Toph wouldn’t help unpack this time, either, leaving the rest of them to set up camp. Not wanting to spend time on the tent, they got into their sleeping bags and tried their best to go to sleep.

It wasn’t long before Toph reopened her tent. “That thing is back!” she shouted.

“Well, how far away is it?” groaned Sokka, “Maybe we can close our eyes just for a few minutes.”

Noticing the smoke billowing up from behind the treetops, Aang responded. “I don’t think so, Sokka.”

They got on Appa again and soared away, and still, none of them knew what the cause of the smoke was.

“Seriously, what is that thing?” asked Katara.

“And how does it keep finding us?” Toph added.

“I don’t know,” said Aang, “But this time, I’m going to make sure we lose it.”

* * *

When Appa landed on a mountain, (y/n) doubted that they’d have the chance to sleep. She didn’t know what was following them, exactly, but the ominous clouds of smoke gave her a bad feeling. There was something off about the way the air smelled when the clouds were near, something strange about the way the ground trembled, something familiar. She would try to sleep anyway, of course – she was as tired as the rest of them – but she was finding it increasingly hard to believe they'd get any sleep that night.

“Okay, forget about setting up camp,” said Sokka, “I’m finding the softest pile of dirt and going to sleep.”

“That’s good because Toph wasn’t going to help anyway!” snapped Katara.

“Oh, I didn’t realize the baby still needed someone to tuck her in bed."

(y/n) rolled her eyes. The two had been arguing for the whole evening, and it was just making this whole situation even more stressful. She sort of understood where Katara was coming from – sure, it would be so much easier for all of them if Toph could pitch in – but then, on the other hand, as much as Toph wasn’t helping, she also wasn’t asking for any help in return. Some people were just more independent than others, and that’s just how life was. There were more important things to deal with, anyway, and she was glad when Aang spoke up.

“Come on guys, there’s something after us and we don’t even know what or who it is.”

“It could be Zuko,” suggested Katara. “We haven’t seen him since the North Pole.”

“Who’s Zuko?” asked Toph.

“Oh,” said Sokka, “Just some angry freak with a ponytail who’s tracked us all over the world.”

(y/n) wanted to argue with that, but decided to hold her tongue. She hoped it wouldn’t be him. Maybe it was silly of her to hope he'd changed, but surely the fact they hadn’t seen him in so long had to mean something?

Eventually, they settled down and were ready to go back to sleep, thinking The Thing couldn’t reach them here. They were wrong. This time, Momo spotted it, and Sokka buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, don’t tell me…”

“That’s impossible,” said Aang. “There’s no way they could have tracked us.”

“I can feel it with my own two feet!” exclaimed Toph.

And (y/n) could see it with her own two eyes, a trail of smoke rising up the mountain. Some sort of vehicle, she thought – and then, she shuddered. There was only one place where a machine like that could have come from.

“Maybe we should face them,” said Aang. “Find out who they are. Who knows, maybe they’re friendly.”

“That’s a Fire Nation tank train,” said (y/n), seeing the vehicle more clearly as it approached. “Whoever’s inside, they’re definitely not our friend.”

And then, the door opened, and (y/n) froze. Out came three Mongoose Lizards, with three people on top of them. For a second, they stopped, predatory looks in their eyes before they rushed forward to the top of the mountain, their fast footsteps in time with (y/n)’s frantic heartbeat.

“It’s those three girls from Omashu!” exclaimed Katara.

Everyone assumed a fighting stance.

“We can take them,” said Toph. “Four on three.”

“Actually Toph, there’s five –” Sokka began, but was interrupted by (y/n).

“Four, five, we don’t have time for that. You can all take the others, but Azula is mine.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down there!” said Toph, “Which one’s Azula, anyway?”

As she spoke, she bended rocks out of the ground in front of the trio, but that didn’t slow them down. The Mongoose Lizards leaps over the pillars and continued on their way.

“Well, we wanted to find out who they were and we found out,” said Sokka. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“We are _not_ going anywhere,” said (y/n) as Toph bended a huge wall in front of the lizards.

“Yes we are!” shouted Katara, already climbing onto Appa, “Don’t you remember what happened in Omashu?”

“You guys go on, then. I have to stay.”

A flash of light split the darkness, and a huge hole appeared in the wall, allowing the lizards to clamber through.

“(y/n), please, you’re only putting yourself in danger!” shouted Aang.

But (y/n) could barely hear him, adrenaline clouding her senses until the world disappeared and all that remained was Azula, and all the feelings from the night she’d found out came rushing back. Just like then, Azula was the same – that same look of cold indifference in her eyes, that same smirk, taking sick pleasure in people’s suffering, in people’s _deaths –_ and she’d had that look in Omashu, too, when she told (y/n) her parents deserved to die, that it was all their fault, and hers, too. She heard Azula's words again in her head – _stupid enough, traitors, rightful punishment –_ and it no longer mattered if she lost the fight, because at least she had to _try_ , no matter what would be the consequence.

The lizards were close now, and Mai swung her arm, sending a flurry of knives flying at Toph, who jumped onto Appa.

“Come on, we can’t fight them off!” Toph shouted.

(y/n) didn’t hear her at all. Eyes fixed on Azula, flames forming on her hands, she leapt forward. Or, at least, attempted to.

“What the…” she mumbled in confusion, and looked down. Her feet were trapped – covered in a layer of rock, and she felt the ground beneath her start to move. The platform rose, pushing her towards the saddle, and when she was directly above it, the ground released her and she fell down next to the others.

“We’re going.” Toph said firmly. “Appa, yip yip!” – and Appa flew off.

A minute later, (y/n) spoke. “Why? If you wanted to leave, you could have left, Appa was right there and you were all on him, so why!”

“You were being unreasonable! There was no way you could have taken those girls,” said Toph.

“And what does that matter? You didn’t have to pull me out. I wasn’t asking for your help.”

“Well, we couldn’t just leave you!” replied Sokka.

“I can’t keep doing this – every time I see her, she always slips away. I need this to be over. And you _should_ have left me –”

“You would have died!” said Katara. “(y/n), back in Omashu you…”

“Well I managed to take on the Rough Rhinos, didn’t I?”

“That’s different! Because you could control yourself with them, you fought your way out if the situation. But with Azula… And that’s not even mentioning the crazy blue flames. Look, I really do understand how you feel. It’s horrible watching someone who did such a thing get away with it, with no remorse whatsoever. But you have to accept that you can’t do this on your own.”

“But I _need_ to do it alone.”

“Don’t you understand?” said Toph, “Whatever this Azula person has done, she’s very clearly bad news. You need to stop all this – you could die!”

“Then I’d rather die than let her get away with it.”

“It’s that whole honorable death thing again, isn’t it?” sighed Sokka.

For a minute, there was silence, and then, for the first time, Aang spoke.

“(y/n). I understand that it’s hard. We’ve both lost our people, and that’s incredibly painful to come to terms with. But you have to ask yourself – what would they want you to do?” He paused, letting (y/n) think. “I know that Monk Gyatso would want me to forgive. And I’m sure your parents would want the same. It’s hard to let go of, and it takes time, but slowly, it gets easier.”

After a long pause, (y/n) responded.

“I wish I could, Aang. Maybe it _would_ make things easier, and I’m really glad it did for you. But I can’t forgive her. Not after seeing it happen right in front of me, and knowing it was because of her.”

“But you have to try. Your parents wouldn’t want you to risk your life like this.”

“I’m sorry, Aang,” whispered (y/n). “But even the thought of her is too much to bear. I can’t do it.”

Aang said nothing, sadly looking away. Dawn broke on the horizon, and they flew on in silence, eventually closing their eyes and drifting off. (y/n) couldn’t do the same. She lay there, staring at the clouds, and the only shapes she could make out in them were her parents, Azula, and Aang's face, full of sadness and disappointment.

She was the first to notice when Appa began to fall. “Wake up!” she shouted over the roar of the wind.

“What’s going on?” said Toph, feeling the descent.

“Appa fell asleep!” Aang shouted back.

In the end, Aang managed to wake Appa up, but they still had to make a landing. That meant setting up camp, thought (y/n), and that meant...

“Okay, we’ve put a lot of distance between us and them. The plan right now is to follow Appa’s lead and get some sleep,” said Sokka.

“Of course, we could’ve gotten some sleep earlier, if Toph didn’t have such issues,” said Katara.

Toph slammed the ground. “What!?”

Aang stepped in. “Alright, alright, everyone’s exhausted. Let’s just get some rest.”

“No, I want to hear what Katara had to say. You think I have issues?”

“I’m just saying,” responded Katara, irritated, “Maybe if you helped out earlier, we could have set up our camp faster and gotten some sleep. And then maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“You’re blaming _me_ for this?”

Katara tossed aside her sleeping bag and gestured at Toph to move closer. Aang jumped in between the two.

“No, no, she’s not blaming you.”

“No, I’m blaming her!”

“Hey,” said Toph, shoving Aang out to the way. “I never asked you for diddly-doo-dah. I carry my own weight. Besides, if there’s anyone to blame, it’s Sheddy over here!”

“What? You’re blaming Appa?” said Aang, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, you want to know how they keep finding us?” she shouted, grabbing a handful of Appa's shedded fur. “He’s leaving a trail everywhere we go!”

And then, even Aang lost his temper. “How dare you blame Appa! He saved your life three times today! If there’s anyone to blame it’s you! You’re always taking about how you carry your own weight, but you’re not. He is! Appa’s carrying your weight. He never had a problem flying when it was just the three of us!”

Toph stomped the ground, launching her bag into the air and catching it. “I’m out of here.”

Despite Sokka and (y/n)’s attempts to stop her, she walked away into the forest, leaving the rest of them to their regret.

“What did I just do? I can’t believe I yelled at my earthbending teacher. Now she’s gone,” said Aang.

“I know,” said Katara. “We’re all just trying to get used to each other. And I was so mean to her.”

“Yeah,” added Sokka, “You two were pretty much jerks.”

“Thanks, Sokka.”

“No problem.”

“Anyway,” said (y/n), “We need to look for her and apologize. She could have gone anywhere, so I think we should split up.”

“Okay, fair enough,” said Sokka, “but what are we going to do about the tank full of dangerous ladies chasing us?”

Aang grabbed a handful of fur, watching as it blew away in the wind. “I have a plan.”

* * *

After cleaning Appa up in a nearby river, (y/n) went off to search for Toph. Walking through the forest, she thought about where Toph might have gone, but then – all the bushes and trees here looked the same, so even if Toph had a particular destination, she wouldn’t have found it. As she kept going, listening out for any sounds that resembled earthbending, she thought about her own conversation with Toph.

They hadn’t spoken much since they'd met, what with all the problems they’d had to worry about, but (y/n) was really starting to like Toph. She liked Toph’s independence, how she never worried about what other people would think, how she was never afraid to tell the truth. Thinking back to the whole incident with Azula, (y/n) felt bad for being so harsh with Toph and the others. They were only trying to help, (y/n) thought, and besides, they had a point – trying to take down Azula on her own was an incredibly stupid idea. Not that any rational thoughts remained in her head when she saw Azula, but still – Toph had done the right thing, and (y/n) was thankful. She only hoped she’d have the chance to tell her.

When (y/n) had been walking for about an hour and was beginning to think about going back – maybe Sokka or Katara had found Toph – she heard it. A familiar voice, coming from behind a rock, and then the wind carried the familiar scent of jasmine tea towards her. She stopped, listening to what he said.

“I know he doesn’t want me around right now, but if he needs me, I’ll be there.”

And then – Toph's voice. “Your nephew is very lucky, even if he doesn’t know it. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights.”

“No, thank you for what you said. It helped me.”

(y/n) sighed in relief. If Toph had received advice from Iroh, then she'd probably decided to rejoin the others, and so (y/n) didn’t need to persuade her. That meant she could have some time to speak to him.

“Oh, and about your nephew,” said Toph, “Maybe you should tell him that you need him, too.”

With that, she left, and after a moment, (y/n) came out from behind the trees, and ran up to Iroh.

“(y/n)!” he chuckled in surprise upon seeing her. “What a pleasure it is to see you here? Was that your friend just now?”

“Yep! That’s Aang's new earthbending teacher. We had a bit of a sticky situation this morning… Anyway, it’s so great to see you again, how have you been? How’s Zuko?”

“Things are… complicated,” responded Iroh. “Would you like a cup of tea while I tell you?”

“Of course. Just like the good old days,” (y/n) laughed.

As he poured her the tea, he began.

“My nephew has been feeling very lost lately. He left me a few days ago, saying he needed to find his own way. After the North Pole, he's had a lot on his mind… I needed to let him go for now so he could figure things out. He needs it.”

“But you’re still following him. Is he okay?”

“It’s difficult to know for sure what he's thinking. Right now, he’s back to searching for the Avatar. Even so, in his travels, he’s beginning to learn some very important lessons.”

“I’m glad… Even if it’s only a little bit, it’s still progress, right?” (y/n) paused, sipping her tea. “Speaking of the Avatar… is he any close to finding Aang?”

“Actually… right now, he’s tracking Azula. He thinks she will lead him to the Avatar.”

“Azula!” (y/n) shuddered. “… _Oh no.”_

“Hmm?”

“If Zuko is around Azula, he’s probably in danger! Are you sure you should be keeping your distance like that, I mean what if she…” (y/n)’s words came out faster and faster as she imagined the horrors Zuko could be subjected to if he was spotted. “I get they’re siblings, but she has no restraint! She could strike him with lightning, or…”

“Azula prefers causing psychological pain to hurting people physically. But she already gave him false hope once. I think he's learned not to trust her.”

“Even so… Right now, I think he needs your help. Even though Aang thinks he’s lost Azula, I think soon enough, she’ll find him. Maybe she already has… And then, Zuko will have to fight her, and then he’ll be in serious trouble.” Suddenly, (y/n) shot up. “What if Azula found Aang already? Oh no, I have to go!”

Iroh put down his cup and stood. “I’ll go too. He might not want my help, but I have to step in if he is in danger.”

With that, they set off towards the village where Aang had flown to before. Though both of them hoped that everything would be alright, with every step of the way, the dread built up inside them, and when they were close enough to the village to hear the fighting, to see houses crumble under the heat of red and blue flames, they knew they had been right to expect the worst.

* * *

Ever since he’d left the village, he'd been following Azula, and his plan had succeeded much sooner than he’d thought. Within two days, Azula had led him to the Avatar, and now it was just the two of them, fighting it out for their honor. Azula had got him this far, but the rest Zuko would have to do on his own, and he couldn’t back down now. Not now that he remembered who he was.

A few minutes ago, he’d stood looking Azula in the eye, both of them waiting for the other person to strike. Of course, Azula had attacked first. Always the first, always the best. But today, right now, that was about to change. He would prove himself, prove that he wasn’t a failure – that he _was_ capable of standing his ground and capturing the Avatar.

That’s what he'd been thinking right up until he’d fallen through the floor of that building. Azula had managed to remain standing, but he was down – and the landing was hard and painful – and then, Azula had shot fire at him and completely knocked him out.

Still, despite the pang of disappointment at himself when he'd come to his senses, he didn’t give up. When he opened his eyes, in his still blurry vision, he'd seen Iroh. His uncle had helped him up, and though Zuko had spent all that time wanting to be alone, he was glad to have his uncle with him again. It meant that, despite everything, at least there was someone who still believed in him, no matter what.

In another few minutes, the long-lost feeling of hope returned to him. Azula was trapped – he'd done it, the Avatar was his! – and he looked around to see who he’d have to fight after she was down. The same three people as always were there – but if he could take Azula, they would be no problem – and then, there was some earthbender girl he didn’t know, and that face-stealing girl from the ship. He tried not to think about Zhao’s last moments, lying there helplessly with the skin pulled over his face. He could deal with all of them later, but for now, Azula had to be defeated. _One step at a time._

“Well, look at this,” said Azula, unbelievably calm as she raised her hands to surrender. “Enemies and traitors, all working together. I’m done. I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor.”

A surrender – _no way_ , thought Zuko. This had to be a trap – it couldn’t actually be this easy. And yet… Azula was up against seven people, and she had nowhere to run. Not taking his eyes off her for one second, Zuko waited for something, and he didn’t know what. All he knew was that, the minute somebody broke their gaze, something very, very bad would happen.

His uncle looked away first.

It was only for a second, but Azula was never one to miss even the smallest opportunity. Before he could do anything to stop it, blue flames shot at Iroh, and he was down. His uncle was on the ground, screaming in pain, and Zuko couldn’t stop the scream leaving his mouth, either.

 _Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no –_ and there was no way Azula was getting away with this.

All six of them attacked her at once, and all Zuko could think about was taking her down. It wasn’t about capturing the Avatar anymore – she'd hurt his uncle, who knew how badly – and there was no way he would let her get away with it. And yet… the elements collided with each other in front of Azula, sending out a thick cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared, she was gone.

Zuko knelt down in front of his uncle, anxiety flooding his mind. His uncle… Was he okay? Was he hurt? He looked, and all he could do was look – his uncle was lying still on the ground, injured and barely breathing and _it was all his fault._ His uncle… The one person who’d always stuck with him, been there through thick and thin when no one else was – he was down and badly hurt and it was all because of him and his stupid quest for the Avatar. And now… the Avatar and his friends were surrounding him, looks of concern on their faces and all he wanted was for them to go – for once, he didn’t want the Avatar – and all he wanted was for his uncle to be okay.

“Get away from us!” he shouted, no longer bothering to hide the pain in his voice.

Uncle… he'd always treated Zuko with nothing but kindness and respect. And now… he might not – _no!_ It was too horrible to think about – and yet – _no._ He couldn’t ignore the possibility no matter how much he wanted to, because there was Uncle, lying weak and frail in the dust below, and every breath he took might be his last.

“Zuko, I can help.”

Katara’s voice came faint and muffled, like sounds coming from underwater, and he couldn’t take it.

_“Leave!”_

His voice was like the desperate cry of a wounded animal, and he wanted them gone. He didn’t care about the Avatar, not anymore – didn’t want to see or even think about him, and his eyes were wide and his vision was hazy, and all that mattered was the old man in front of him – his uncle, his _father_ , and Azula had hit him, and it was all his fault.

Some voice deep within his head pleaded with him to calm down, to listen to his uncle's breaths, and he did. They came out faint. Weak and ragged and strained, and few, and far between, and Uncle was lying, _dying, maybe!_ – in the sand and dust of this stupid ghost town – and his own breathing came out ragged and strained – a sign of weakness he was too distressed to hide – and why did he have to come here? And Uncle was just trying to help, had done it all for him – Zuko was shaking all over now, unable to tear his eyes away from his uncle – he had done it all for him! Put his life in danger for _him_ , for Zuko, the ungrateful, idiotic, selfish brat of a nephew that he was – and now Iroh was probably struggling through his dying breath, and it was all his fault – and Uncle hadn’t shouted at him once! – hadn’t told him off _once_ for the way he treated him, had never considered him a failure the way everyone else did – and now Uncle, the kindest man in the world was dying and it was all his fault – he collapsed onto his uncle, closing his eyes and shaking, his heart pounding in his ears – and it was all his fucking fault.

* * *

Appa landed on a mountain, and, after staying awake for the past two days, everyone tried to go to sleep. However, after the fight that just went down, everyone except Toph was too shaken up to relax. They didn’t know the old man that got shot, but they knew Zuko, and they’d never expected to see him like this.

Aang stared at the sky, wishing the man didn’t have to get hurt. He remembered him from Zuko’s ship, but he'd always seemed nicer and calmer than Zuko, and maybe, under different circumstances, the two could have been friends. But as well as that, there was something else on Aang's mind, something that had been bothering him for a while now. (y/n).

“I’m sorry, everyone,” she whispered, knowing nobody was actually asleep. “You were all just trying to help me earlier today, and I was really irritable and mean about it. Toph… thank you so much. I’m so glad you decided to give us another chance.”

“Hey, no problem,” said Toph. “You guys aren’t so bad, after all.”

But Aang was still concerned.

“(y/n)?” he whispered to her.

“Yeah?”

“Does that mean..?” he took a breath, not sure if he wanted her answer. Still, he couldn’t lose hope, and he had to at least ask. “Does that mean you’ve decided to try to forgive Azula?”

“What? No, of course not. Especially not now after what she did to Iroh and Zuko.”

“Oh…”

He supposed he’d been expecting it, but it hurt to hear, anyway. Revenge was destructive, and he didn’t want his friend to hurt herself. And, as well as that… there was a bit more to it.

“I don’t understand why I should forgive her, though. Not when a confrontation with her would bring me the same closure. I appreciate you looking out for me, Aang. I really do, and I know you’re coming from a good place… But after everything, that path just isn’t for me.”

“But the monks' teachings, (y/n)! I know you don’t remember, but surely, you must still have a connection to them?”

“...I’m sorry.”

Aang had been expecting this answer, and even so, it hurt. He never had expected Katara and Sokka to fully understand his pacifist beliefs – different cultures and all that, but (y/n)? When he’d first found out she was an Air Nomad, he’d had hopes that she, at least, would understand. That there was _someone_ in the world who understood, who still remembered his people and culture. But (y/n) was nothing like he thought she’d be, and had she been from anywhere else, he supposed it would have hurt less, but… He'd had such hope, but now, it was becoming more and more apparent he would end up alone.

“I really am sorry, Aang,” (y/n) whispered. “I wish I could understand, I do, and I know how you must feel… And I admire your peaceful views on life. I just… I can’t.”

“But you can! Forgiveness is a choice that everyone can make!”

“I don’t know if it’s a choice I _want_ to make.”

“What? (y/n), what is that supposed to mean?” the statement startled Aang, and words he didn’t know he'd been meaning to say flew out. “I know you don’t have your memories, but you’re still an Air Nomad! But you don’t act like one at all, you act like –” He stopped.

“Like what, Aang?” (y/n) whispered, and suddenly, he heard the fear in her voice.

“All I’m trying to say is… you know…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain.

“I can tell you!” Sokka suddenly interjected, and Aang was stuck between wanting Sokka to be quiet, and thanking him for stepping in. “(y/n), you’re not exactly what I would call a pacifist, there’s that subtle but still very weird thing with honor you’ve got going on, and on top of that, you’re not even a vegetarian. I mean, not that I blame you, meat _is_ delicious and all, but –”

“Sokka, that’s enough.” hissed Katara.

Aang turned to look at (y/n), and even in the darkness he could see that her face had gone pale. She stared at the sky, her breathing suddenly very quiet, and didn’t move.

“Sorry, (y/n), I shouldn’t have –” he began, but (y/n) cut him off.

“No, Aang, don’t apologize. You and Sokka, you’re… you’re right.”

* * *

(y/n) didn’t sleep until the early hours of the morning. Aang and Sokka had been right. She _was_ an Air Nomad, had been born one and she knew that for certain, so why couldn’t she just act like one? Even if she didn’t remember it, it was still as much her culture as it was his, and she’d just… She’d gone and forgotten all the teachings of her people, and wasn’t even trying to reconnect with their peaceful way of life. And as for her actual memories…

Before, she'd been remembering out of curiosity as well, but mainly, it had been for Aang. She hated seeing him alone, because, despite his friends, it still wasn’t quite the same thing as being with his people – and he deserved to be understood. But now… Now, she had to do it for herself, too. If her present self couldn’t understand the Air Nomad teachings, then her past self could – and so she had to keep the memory sessions with Aang going. She had to return to her culture. She had to reconnect with her past, more peaceful, self. She had to remember.

She _had_ to.

Promising to herself that she'd try her hardest to remember after the earthbending lesson tomorrow, she finally fell asleep.


	20. Nature vs Nurture

_Today was the day_ , thought (y/n), waking up the following morning. They were safe now, and nobody was following them, so the day would be relatively calm and peaceful: an earthbending lesson in the morning and afternoon, a remembering session in the evening. Still, (y/n) was nervous. She'd had moderate success with air since joining Aang, but despite her recent improvements, her skills at waterbending were pretty much non-existent. And so, with earth being the opposite element for Air Nomads, she expected herself and Aang to struggle, a lot.

Aang was a lot more excited about it than she was. “Can you believe it? After all that time searching for a teacher, I’m finally learning earthbending!” he shouted excitedly, waking Sokka up. “And this place, it’s perfect, don’t you think? Sokka? Oh, you’re still sleeping, huh? Sorry.”

(y/n) liked seeing Aang so enthusiastic, and hoped he’d remain that way even if he ended up finding earthbending hard. Though, maybe he wouldn’t? – thought (y/n), – he _was_ the Avatar, after all.

(y/n) got out of her sleeping bag and was just about to go talk to him when the ground shook. Toph's tent exploded, slabs of rock flying in every direction, and when the dust cleared, she spoke.

“Good morning, earthbending students!”

“Good morning, Sifu Toph,” said Aang and (y/n), and bowed.

“Hey, you two never called me Sifu Katara!”

Aang turned to look at Katara, scratching the back of his head. “Well, if you think I should…”

Suddenly, Sokka sat up, grumbling at the noise.

“Sorry, Snoozles,” said Toph, “We'll do our earthbending as quietly as we can.”

A second later, Sokka was flying through the air, an earth pillar having launched him up from underneath his sleeping bag. When he landed, he hopped away, grumbling incoherent complaints at Toph before leaving the area completely.

“So what move are you going to teach me first?” asked Aang excitedly. “Rock-a-lanche?” He demonstrated, clenching his fist and bringing his arm down like a hammer. “The Trembler? Or, maybe I could learn to make a whirlpool out of land!”

Toph put a hand on Aang's chest to calm him down. “Let’s start with ‘move a rock’.”

“Sounds good, sounds good!”

And so, they moved to a more suitable area and began.

“The key to earthbending is your stance,” explained Toph. “You’ve got to be steady and strong. Rock is a stubborn element. If you’re going to move it, you’ve got to be like a rock yourself.”

“Like a rock. Got it,” said Aang, and (y/n) nodded. It seemed simple enough in theory, she thought, but of course it would be very different in practice.

“Good,” said Toph. “Now the actual motion of this one is pretty simple.” She demonstrated, slamming the rock against the canyon wall. “Okay, you ready to give it a try? Aang, you first.”

“I’m ready,” he said. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the rock. The rock didn’t budge. Instead, Aang flew backwards into Appa.

“(y/n), you try,” instructed Toph. (y/n) narrowed her eyes, concentrating on the rock. Aang hadn’t managed so there was no way it would actually work, she thought, but everyone had to start somewhere. So, remembering what Toph had done, she repeated the move. The rock flew into the wall, smashing instantly.

* * *

By the time morning came the next day, Zuko had calmed down. It had been stupid of him to lose control over his emotions like that, especially when Azula could have come back and attacked at any moment – and of course Uncle wouldn’t die from a small blast like that. Still, as much as he could push away the guilt, he couldn’t ignore how worried he was for his uncle, right until the minute he finally opened his eyes.

Zuko noticed it immediately.

“Uncle… You were unconscious,” he said. “Azula did this to you. It was a surprise attack.”

“Somehow, that’s not so surprising,” Iroh groaned.

Zuko handed Iroh some tea. “I hope I made it the way you like it,” he said.

Iroh took a sip. “Good. That was very… uh… bracing.”

Zuko pretended not to notice how Iroh secretly threw the tea out behind his shoulder. There were more important things to think about now, anyway.

“So, Uncle, I’ve been thinking,” he began. “It’s only a matter of time before I run into Azula again. I’m going to need to know more advanced firebending if I want to stand a chance against her. I know what you’re going to say,” he added – “she’s my sister and I should be trying to get along with her…”

“No, she’s crazy, and she needs to go down. It’s time to resume your training.”

Zuko was glad Iroh understood and was willing to help. Now that he was officially enemies with his sister, he needed to be able to defend himself. _And defend Uncle_ , he thought, but Uncle didn’t need to know _that_ much.

* * *

Back at the canyon, the earthbending lesson continued, everyone examining Aang's rock that still hadn’t moved an inch.

“I don’t understand what went wrong,” said Katara. “He did it exactly the way you and (y/n) did.”

“Maybe there’s another way…” suggested Aang. “What if I came at the boulder from another angle?”

“No. That’s the problem. You’ve got to stop thinking like an airbender. There’s no different angle, no clever solution, no trickety-trick that’s going to move that rock. You’ve got to face it head on. And when I say head on, I mean like this!” Toph jumped and destroyed the rock with her head.

“Whoa!” gasped Aang.

Toph went off to have a talk with Katara, and as they were gone, Aang stared down at the pieces of his shattered rock and tried once more to make them move. Meanwhile, (y/n) watched him in surprise. She still couldn’t believe it. It had taken her weeks to make even the tiniest wave with waterbending, so how had she just...? Well, she’d think about that later, she decided, seeing Toph come back from her talk.

“All right, you two, see those rocks over there? Pick those up, one each – the bigger, the better!”

And so, the lesson started again: trying not to fall while carrying heavy rocks as pillars rose out of the ground, smashing rocks while blindfolded, juggling rocks while standing on wobbly stilts. It definitely wasn’t by any definition easy, and by the time the next break came around, (y/n) was tired from all the physical strain, but as for the actual bending part… Well, these were only beginner exercises, she thought, but even so, she wasn’t having any difficulty at all.

“(y/n), maybe you should go do your own thing while I catch Twinkle Toes here up to speed,” Toph said as the lesson was about to begin once more. “I’ll find you when he gets the hang of it.”

(y/n) nodded, thanking Toph and going off to sit next to Katara. She would rest for a little longer, and then maybe… Maybe she’d do some waterbending practice. She didn’t want to waste one of the rare days reserved for training, after all.

* * *

“Lightning is a pure form of firebending, without aggression” explained Iroh. “It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is. Some call lightning the cold-blooded fire. It is precise and deadly, like Azula. To perform the technique requires peace of mind."

“I see,” said Zuko. “That’s why we're drinking tea, to calm the mind.”

“Oh yeah, good point! I mean, yes.”

For once, Zuko concentrated hard on what his uncle was telling him. If he could really learn to bend lightning the way Azula could… Well then, he might finally stand a chance.

When they were outside, Iroh continued his explanation.

“There is energy all around us. The energy is both yin and yang. Positive energy and negative energy. Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance, and in the moment the positive and negative energy come crashing back together, you provide release and guidance, creating lightning.”

He stepped forward and demonstrated, the world briefly turning white as lightning erupted from his hand, shooting away into the distance. Zuko looked on, focused – in a minute, he thought, he would do the same. He was ready.

“Remember, once you separate the energy, you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide. Breathe first.”

Listening to his uncle, Zuko took a deep breath. Trying to copy Iroh's previous moves, he took aim at some rocks in front of him, and shot. The ground in front of him exploded. Zuko flew back, right to where Iroh was standing, and watched as a cloud of smoke rose from the place where lighting was meant to have been. He'd gotten it wrong, and Iroh shook his head in disappointment.

* * *

Katara watched as Aang kept struggling through his earthbending exercises, and she was beginning to get a little worried. Toph insisted on taking him outside of his comfort zone – giving him a push, rather than the gentle nudge Aang usually responded to so well – and Katara hoped Aang wouldn’t get hurt. She would have spoken to Toph about it, but the times she did try, Aang’s exercises only got harder, so now, he was forced to stop a boulder rolling towards him from a hill, with his bare hands, blindfolded. Things really were not going well.

“Hey, Katara!” (y/n)’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked away from Aang.

“Hmm?”

“Since I’m free for this afternoon, I think, do you want to go practice waterbending?”

“Umm…” Katara hesitated, glancing at Aang to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Relieved to find that he was completely safe – getting told off by Toph but not crushed by a rock, at least – she agreed to practice with (y/n). So, a few minutes later, they stood knee-deep in a pond, and (y/n) was once again doing the warm-up exercises before they could begin for real. Since (y/n) knew the warm-up off by heart and Katara didn’t need to instruct her, she took a minute to think.

Aang was struggling with earthbending, and Toph was getting annoyed at him for now, but she’d come around eventually, and Aang would learn. He was quick to pick things up, after all – and he was a very talented waterbending student. (y/n), on the other hand… Whereas before, Katara had thought that (y/n) was just not a fast learner, which was why she struggled with water and would eventually struggle with earth, that was… clearly not the case. Earth came easy. Water didn’t. Why? – And Katara wanted to slap herself for not realising sooner. Now that she thought about it, it seemed so obvious that it would have ended up this way. In fact, she thought, it would be much stranger if it hadn’t.

“Katara? Should I try the same move as last time again? Maybe I’ve had another sudden boost since then?” asked (y/n) hopefully.

“Oh, um, sure. Go ahead.”

But (y/n) didn’t make much more progress than last time, and Katara suppressed a sigh. Before, she'd hoped that there was just some fundamental aspect of waterbending that (y/n) wasn’t getting, but eventually, she'd understand it and everything would go much smoother. But now… Well, unless (y/n) had a sudden 180-degree shift in personality, progress would remain stuck at a snail’s pace for a while yet.

“Katara, am I doing this right?”

“What?” Katara looked up, once again realizing how distracted she was. “Oh, um, yeah. Continue.”

But even so, Katara found it hard to focus. When she watched (y/n) go through the motions, her gaze drifted to the look on (y/n)’s face. It had been calm, happy even, when they’d just started the session, but now, (y/n) clearly had something on her mind – a question that worried her more and more every time the water came splashing back down from the small height she’d managed to raise it.

Another few minutes later, (y/n) looked back up at Katara, and though she tried to hide it, Katara could see that she was more worried than ever.

“Is there something distracting you?” (y/n) asked. “I’m sorry, I know it must be annoying to keep doing the same thing with me over and over…”

“No, it’s not that at all!” Katara exclaimed, but both of them knew she was lying.

“I won’t be offended or anything. It frustrates me too… I _should_ be able to do this, and I don’t know why I can’t…”

But (y/n) did know the exact reason why she couldn’t, and Katara could tell. It was just that she couldn’t accept it.

“Don't worry about it. If I seem distracted today, it’s just because I’m too worried about Aang to concentrate on training.”

“Yeah… I hope he's doing alright,” said (y/n) nervously.

The lesson ended there. (y/n) went off to gather food for the evening, and soon after, Aang came to Katara to practice waterbending.

* * *

Several more attempts to generate lightning failed, and Zuko was beginning to get frustrated. After all this practice, he _should_ have been able to do it, and Azula made it look so easy, so why?

“Why can’t I do it?” he burst out in frustration. “Instead of lightning it keeps exploding in my face… like everything always does.”

Iroh’s reply came solemn and quiet, and brought Zuko no closer to an answer. “I was afraid this might happen. You will not be able to master lightning until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.”

“What turmoil?”

“Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”

Zuko had no idea what his uncle was talking about.

“But I don’t feel any shame at all. I’m as proud as ever.”

And he _wasn’t_ ashamed, he thought, not anymore, not now that he knew who he was. He was the Prince of the Fire Nation! – he _should_ be proud! – he thought, and he didn’t know why those words didn’t make him feel any better, or where the sour taste in his mouth suddenly came from.

“Prince Zuko,” began Iroh, “Pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source. True humility is the only antidote to shame.”

“Well, my life has been nothing but humbling lately.”

“I have another idea,” said Iroh. “I will teach you a firebending move that even Azula doesn’t know, because I made it up myself.”

Zuko smiled. Yeah, he thought, that was better. Even if Uncle didn’t always understand, he still knew what to say – and he was thankful that they wouldn’t have to talk about pride and shame anymore, at least.

He listened intently as Iroh explained the move. The technique he was about to learn was taken from waterbending, which he supposed was interesting, because the only thing he knew about other styles of bending came from his fights with the Avatar. At school, and then at the private bending lessons his father had insisted on him having when it turned out he wasn’t as skilled as his sister, he’d only ever learned about sudden, direct movements – lots of punches and kicks, and lots of anger to fuel it. _The other nations have inferior forms of bending that aren't worth discussing_ , he remembered his teacher saying once – _simple, primitive, and weak._ Well, after fighting the Avatar, he learned that they were anything but weak, and, judging by how much he was struggling with lightning, they weren’t simple or primitive, either.

“It is the combination of the four elements in one person that makes the Avatar so powerful,” his uncle said, and Zuko wondered how, if one element was hard enough, someone could possibly master four. _Azula probably could have, if it was her instead of that boy –_ but he pushed that thought down – she wasn’t invincible, and he was going to defeat her.

“If you let the energy in your own body flow, the lightning will follow it,” Iroh said, before explaining the pathways that energy took in the body. Zuko listened intently, then copied his uncle’s movements, focusing on the way his chi flowed.

“Can you feel your own chi flowing in, down, up, and out?” Iroh asked.

“I think so,” Zuko replied. He wasn’t sure if he was really feeling it, or just convincing himself.

“Come on,” said Iroh, noticing Zuko's slight uncertainly – “You’ve got to feel the flow."

And so, Zuko kept going, until –

“Excellent! You’ve got it!” exclaimed Iroh.

Zuko smiled. He’d done it. He'd actually done it – finally, something he could use to take Azula down. Something that made him feel like, compared to her, he still meant something.

“Great,” he said – and for the first time in years, he felt feelings of accomplishment related to his bending. “I’m ready to try it with real lightning!”

Iroh looked at him, shocked. “What, are you crazy? Lightning is very dangerous?”

_What?_

“I thought that was the point! You teaching me to protect myself from it!” – Because, he thought, what use was his knowledge of the technique if he never even got the chance to use it?

“Yeah! But I’m not going to shoot lightning at you! If you’re lucky, you will never have to use this technique at all!”

_What the – why all the training, then and why –_

_…_

_Oh._ – he thought, – that was it. Of course, that was it – Uncle didn’t believe he could do it. He’d never been as good as Azula, so of course Uncle assumed that if _she_ couldn’t redirect lightning, then neither could he. It had been that, all along. Nobody, not even Uncle, believed in him. Well, he thought – he would prove them wrong, all of them.

“Well, if you won’t help me,” he said, mounting his ostrich horse, “I’ll find my own lightning.”

With that, he rode away.

* * *

Evening was approaching fast, and while (y/n) had collected all the fruits and berries she could find from the area around them – which wasn’t much, given the rocky landscape – Aang, Katara and Sokka still hadn’t returned. So, (y/n) had gone to find them, and, to her surprise, Katara was still at the pond, practicing with Aang. As she came closer, she heard a bit of their conversation.

“I know, I know, I know, I know! I get it, alright? I need to face it head on like a rock, but I just can’t do it. I don’t know why I can’t, but I can’t.”

“Aang, if fire and water are opposites,” said Katara, “then what’s the opposite of air?”

“I guess it’s earth…”

“That’s why it’s so difficult for you to get this. You’re working with your natural opposite. But you’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

“Thanks, Katara. That explains –” Suddenly, he stopped. “Wait. Wait, no, that doesn’t explain anything. Katara, what about (y/n)?”

Still in the bushes, (y/n) stopped. They’d mentioned her. Wrong as she knew it was to intrude like this, she couldn’t help herself, so, as quietly as she could, she settled down and listened in.

“(y/n) can do it, right?” Aang continued – “She had no problem with anything we did today, but she’s an Air Nomad like me! Surely if it was about natural opposites, she should have struggled as much as I did?”

Katara’s next words came out hesitant and awkward, a voice reserved for uncomfortable secrets and unspoken truths.

“(y/n) is…” she paused. “(y/n) is different.”

“What do you mean? I guess she doesn’t always act like an Air Nomad, but she still is, right? And that’s what matters.”

“Aang… I’m… I’m not so sure about that. I mean, she _is_ an Air Nomad, but bending is more than just where you’re born. It’s about your approach to things, how you solve problems, your… personality. And (y/n)… well, her approach to bending, and to most other things is…”

“I get it,” Aang sighed dejectedly. “You’re saying she has the approach of a firebender.”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean. I didn’t really think much about it before, but it’s why water is so difficult for her. And why she could earthbend today, no problem… Not that it makes her a bad person or anything! Just…” she sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” repeated Aang. “That’s what I was gonna say last night as well. It’s not that I have a problem with it, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

Drying their clothes, Aang and Katara left the pond, and walked back in the direction of their camp.

(y/n) remained in the bushes, a cold, uncomfortable dread paralyzing her entire body. What they’d said – _no_ , it couldn’t be true – but then, the question that had been troubling her all afternoon – why _had_ earthbending gone so well for her? – suddenly, the answer was there and it all made sense. _No, they just got the wrong idea_ – but then again, it’s not like any of this was news to her, not really. Shut windows had never meant the soldiers were gone, closed eyes hadn’t made the crimes disappear, and repressed thoughts didn’t erase the past, and it was time she realized that. It had only been two and a half years – thirty months – not much, in the grand scheme of things – and yet, those thirty months were all she knew. She hated that country – every awful bit of it – and yet, it had been so, so stupid of her to think it wouldn’t leave its mark. Of course it had. Of course, these disgusting ideas had wormed their way inside her head somehow, despite all her effort to keep them out, and now she was paying the price. She should have been more careful. Should have kept them out, no matter how difficult it might have been. But she hadn’t, and now… And now…

And now, – _no!_ – said a little voice inside her head – _no, it doesn’t have to be this way, you still have a chance!_

A chance? _What – what chance? – What –_

But…

Yes. That was it, of course she had one, how could she have forgotten? _Her memories._ If only she could just remember those lost twelve years of her life! – then, everything would be so much easier, and those thirty months would be nothing in comparison. _Yeah, that’s right_ , she thought, comforting herself, all she had to do was remember. A tinge of panic rose up within her at the thought – nothing she’d tried before with Aang had succeeded – so what would she do now? – _contact Roku_ – the voice spoke again. _He’ll know what to do_ – and (y/n) felt a little calmer. That was it – there was still hope left – she just had to meditate, or get knocked out – whatever happened first, and then, everything would sort itself out and she would be an Air Nomad again. So, she finally moved from her spot in the bushes, and started walking deeper into the forest. She had a little time before the sun set, anyway. She could meditate a little, and who knew… maybe it would work?

* * *

Night had fallen, and Zuko found his way to the top of a mountain. A storm was raging in the sky – sheets of rain poured down onto him, cold winds stinging his wet face, and he didn’t care about any of it. _Fine then._ Let the rain pour, let the sky tremble, let it strike him and _let it hurt._ It was fine now. He could take it.

“You’ve always thrown everything you could at me!” he yelled at the storm. “Well, I can take it, and now I can give it back!”

No response, except the never-ending splashes of rain.

“Come on, strike me! You’ve never held back before!”

Still, nothing, and he hated this. Why couldn’t life just hit him, with all it had, like it always had done in the past? He just wanted to do this, to prove he could succeed _for once_ , so he could prove he was more than the banished prince, more than a failure, that there was at least _something_ in the world he was capable of! He'd take anything, no matter how dangerous, no matter how much it hurt, because anything would be better than pushing down the constant shame, pretending it didn’t exist but it was _right there_. It really was shame – he felt it in the pouring of the rain, heard it in the thunder of the sky – and Uncle had been right – and he was probably right about everything else, too – Zuko couldn’t redirect lightning because what _could_ he do? – who was he? – a failure that didn’t matter compared to his sister, was completely powerless against her; couldn’t even protect his own uncle.

He’d always said that struggles had made him strong, he thought. Because at least all the suffering would have _meant_ something, it wasn’t all for nothing – he was getting the strength out of it that he desperately needed! – but now… This whole time, who was he kidding? The rain battered his face, and lightning struck everywhere but here, and he felt small, so pathetically _small_ against the mountains and the sky, and he was weaker than ever – and it would all be so much simpler if the lightning struck him now! Could he actually redirect it if it did? – he thought, and he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He screamed, frustration reaching the clouds in his voice, and the sky remained silent as ever, because of course it did. And where did that leave him? Lost, alone, screaming at the world – and what was he doing there? – it wouldn’t fix him now, wouldn’t give him the purpose he desperately needed. No rules or directions to follow to block out the thoughts – what was he meant to do with all of this now?

Constant struggles, all his life. Constantly trying to overcome them – getting Azula away from him, getting rid of Zhao, capturing the Avatar. Always a problem to face, an enemy to fight and it wasn’t easy, but it was so much simpler than this. And who was he meant to fight now? This stupid, unresponsive sky? The world? Himself? He didn’t know, and he wished someone would just tell him because he didn’t think he could take this for much longer. So why couldn’t life just throw another hardship at him? – give him an enemy to beat up, a problem with a straightforward solution, some kind of direction – anything! – and he would do it.

But no. The rain was dying down now, and the sky lit up for the last time, and them the storm was gone and all that remained was the bitter cold.

There was no direction left. He would have to make his own path. Solve his own problems, do what _he_ wanted – and he didn’t know what that was. All he knew was that the world had given up on him, just like Father had, and he was lost, and alone, and he was such a failure.

* * *

**_Excuse the POV change y’all._ **

I sat under a tree, surrounded by nature and peace and I couldn’t calm down. Breathing was difficult, my heart was racing, and over and over I reminded myself – _this is not the end. You still have a chance. You still have your memories._

Twelve years' worth of memories had to count for something, right? Things I’d lived through in my youngest and most impressionable years – I’d just get them all back and become a pacifist monk like Aang, right? It _had_ to be like that, because if not –

I didn’t want to think about the if not. _I shouldn’t be thinking at all. I should be meditating._ – And would it even work? Would Roku even know – I needed him to know, because what would I do if he didn’t – _it’ll be fine. Just calm down and it will all be fine._

I don’t know how long I spent trying to meditate, but my thoughts raced and so did my heart and it didn’t work. I opened my eyes and the sun was setting – I needed to go back! – but I couldn’t bring myself to move. _It’s now or never_ – and I wished I could just forget.

The rock came suddenly. Probably a practice move of Toph’s or Aang’s, I didn’t know, but what I did know was that a rock was flying towards me – not huge but enough to hurt – and then I was in pain and falling to the ground and then, finally, everything went black.

The next thing I saw before me was the lake, the trees, the yellow sky, and I had made it. I was there, in the spirit world, and now, I had to find Roku.

“Hello?” I yelled, “Roku, I really need to speak to you!”

After a minute, I heard the rustle of leaves in the distance, and I knew he was close. Before he'd even fully made it out of the trees, I began.

“So, I’m sorry to come here all of a sudden, but I really need your help.”

“Ah, (y/n)… What’s troubling you?”

“Well, you see…” My words came out very urgent and fast, bordering on incoherence. “Remember how, when I woke up from my coma, I didn’t remember anything? All I knew of my past came from a letter I found on my bed. And I guess I didn’t mind that much back then, but it’s suddenly become very important to me to get all the memories back, so…” I slowed down. “Please, Roku, could you help me?”

He paused, taking a deep breath before replying. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and soft. “(y/n)… why do you need the memories now?”

“Because I do! Please, if you know anything, I…” I stopped. Clearly, he _did_ know something. And it seemed like, unless I answered his question properly, he wouldn’t tell me. I tried again: “The thing is… uh… back when I was twelve and younger, I was… a much better person than I am today. And I want to go back to that, I want to be the person I was again. Because... I don’t like what I’ve become.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, and I really wished he hadn’t said that, because I didn’t know how to answer without saying it outright, and I didn’t want to do that. Saying the words out loud just made everything seem more real.

“Well, you know…” I took a deep breath. “I was a pacifist, and I was calmer, and I wasn’t so quick to jump into things, and I was just… a lot nicer. And now… I can’t be that now.”

He paused. “How do you know that is how you used to be?”

“Because I was an Air Nomad! And that’s just the culture… I mean yeah, there are variations with personality, but generally, I probably would have been like that, right? I would have been a much better person!”

“Do you believe your culture defines how good of a person you are?”

“Well, uh… If you put it like that… no?… yes – maybe?” He’d phrased it in such a way that I had no idea how to answer. It sounded so wrong – but then my circumstances – no, but yes, but – I didn’t know! – and then, without thinking, I burst out: “ Well, Air Nomad culture didn’t lead the world into a century-long war!”

There was a long pause, and I looked down at the lake. The fish didn’t calm me down this time. Eventually, he spoke:

“You’re afraid that you’ve been shaped by the Fire Nation.”

I winced. Hearing it out loud meant the words had more weight, made them real, and there was no escape from the uncomfortable truth. Very slowly, still not lowering my eyes from the lake, I nodded.

“I see. I myself don’t like what my nation has become. The past three Fire Lords have destroyed the world, and for that, I can never forgive them…” he paused. “Even so, that doesn’t mean the whole country is bad and beyond redemption. I may be angry, I may be disappointed… yet, I will never be ashamed of my country. (y/n)… I think you need to realize the same.”

“What?” I looked up at him. “I mean, good for you for not being blinded by patriotism or whatever, but what does that have to do with me?”

“(y/n), it is your country, too.”

“What?” I froze. “What, no, what do you – unless? Do you mean – I’m not an – but I thought – I _must_ be!” My legs were beginning to shake, and I sat down, my breathing coming our faster than ever.

“I don’t mean that. Yes, you are an Air Nomad by birth. But there is more to identity than that. It is not only how your are born that matters, but the beliefs and values with which you are raised. _Both_ of those things make you into who you are. And you were raised in the Fire Nation.”

For a moment, the fear was gone, replaced with frustration. “Yes, but only for a couple years! I still have twelve years of Air Nomad memories! I’ll remember and then those thirty months won’t even matter, so stop trying to convince me to ‘accept myself' or whatever, because that Fire Nation person you envision isn’t me!”

I took a deep breath. I hadn’t meant to say all that – it probably came off as rude, and I really didn’t want to offend Roku. “Sorry, I just…” I whispered weakly. “I just want my memories. Please. That’s… that’s all I ask.”

Another long pause, and I could swear even the birds had stopped singing.

And then – “I’m sorry, (y/n). I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but… They’re gone. If you haven’t remembered them by now, you never will. The memories are gone, and they’re not coming back.

The blood in my body froze in an instant, and I could barely move. Breath hitching in my throat, I slowly turned my head around to look at him. “What?” I whispered, though I didn’t know if any sounds actually left my mouth.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“W-what?” I repeated, because _no. No way, no way, no way, this couldn’t be real._ They had to still be there, they had to – I couldn’t have just… lost them forever – no, _no no no no no no no!_ – no, there had to be a way, he had to be wrong, I couldn’t – what did that – what was I – no, _no way no no no!_

“I…” I started, my voice hoarse, but no words made their way out. “I’m… But…” And I knew what I wanted to say, and there was no point denying it anymore, and I couldn’t bear to say the words out loud.

Roku spoke for me. “You don’t want to act the way that you do anymore, because you learned it from the Fire Nation.”

I didn’t say anything, and I wished he wouldn’t either – and I hated how he knew what I was thinking because if he didn’t – if I hadn’t been knocked out by that stupid rock, I could have spent the rest of my days in blissful ignorance – and I wouldn’t have to hear those awful words. But no – and on top of that, my memories were gone – I’d changed and there was no going back and I didn’t know who I’d become, didn’t know and I hated it, except I _did_ know – _just say it already –_ and I didn’t want to but – _just admit it_ – and… I couldn’t. No, no way –

“No way,” I said, my voice a weak whisper. “I’m just… I’m just making this up, right? This is all a bad dream. Or… it’s just my insecurities talking. Maybe I… maybe I act like an Air Nomad and it’s just me… worrying too much? Maybe that’s all? Please… tell me that’s… that’s all…”

“(y/n)… Think back to your bending lessons. What is the element you have the most trouble with?”

“Water…” I whispered – “But! That doesn’t have to mean anything, I mean, I’m sure there’s another explanation and –”

“Though it is a good indication, there is one other way to tell for certain.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, my eyes lit up. Hope came flooding back, even though I knew I should hold on for a little longer – it was too early to feel any hope, he hadn’t even spoken – but still, maybe, maybe it wasn’t all so bad, _maybe there was still a chance._

“After you woke up… What was the first element you manifested?”

The… first…

_Oh._

The first.

_No._

The library, all those books filled with lies and propaganda, all those feelings of despair and rage and _the burning table_. And there it was. Irrefutable evidence.

“…Fire.” I could barely hear myself speak as I said it. “It was fire. But then – it makes no sense, I was born –“

And I knew I was wrong, I knew I was desperate and scrambling for the slightest bit of proof, but I couldn’t stop.

“You need to accept it, (y/n),” he said, the words sounding authoritative and sinister through my fear. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You just… are. Air runs in your blood, but fire runs in your spirit.”

_No, no no no – Yes._

“Goodbye,” he said, his voice suddenly distant and quiet, and everything was once again black.

I woke up.

I wished I hadn’t.

* * *

Minutes passed, minutes as long as hours and maybe it _was_ hours, because the sky was completely black. The grass was soft beneath my hands, and I breathed slowly, taking in the cool night air. I could hear it – gentle as it rustled through the trees and the grass, sweeping up leaves and dropping them down to the dirt. It whispered to me, called to me, fragments of the conversation washing over me.

I’d let this happen. It was my fault, and I should have known better, and I’d let this happen. That awful country, responsible for the death of my people – could I even call them _my_ people anymore? – responsible for the death of my parents, and of countless other lives and… I’d become one of _them_.

How could I have sat there as that life carried on around me, passively taking it all in? Sure, I had resisted the propaganda, knew better than to listen to the politics – but everything else? What about everything else? – I’d let them change me.

I could have been a different person. A calm, kind, peaceful person, someone who would rather suffer for the rest of their life before they even thought about hurting someone. And that person _had_ been me, once. I’d had it, and then it had all slipped away. And who was I now? What kind of monster had they made me into? _I_ made me into?

I wished it had never happened. I wished I’d stayed in the Air Temple, asleep forever, lost between the living and the dead. But I was awake. I had to deal with this. Had to deal with _me_. And that was absolutely unbearable.

My breathing quickened, and I could barely feel the breeze on my cheeks.

What _was_ I? Apparently, an idiot. An unbelievably huge one, who should have known better, but I didn’t _–_ Heartless, incompetent, pathetic.

I couldn’t feel the night air at all, and the rustling noises of leaves and forest creatures vanished.

If I’d just remained in the Air Temple, maybe I’d be miserable and lost and alone, but I would be a good person, with a clear conscience. But no… I had to come with my parents – ruin their lives and _Azula had been right –_ if only they hadn’t taken me back, Azula wouldn’t have come to the house, wouldn’t have seen, wouldn’t have told – they would still be alive.

Was there anything in this world I was good for?

I’d given Aang false hope. Katara wasted her time on me every day, teaching me things I would never learn. And what had I done for them – had I helped them in any way? – no, I hadn’t, I’d just gone and used their kindness, and they knew and they were too nice to tell me the truth, too nice to upset me and they were the kindest people in the world and I didn’t deserve them.

 _I didn’t deserve them._ They should just leave me. I should just stay here, among the wind and the trees I could no longer tell were there – and they’d be happier, wouldn’t have to deal with the constant reminder of the people that had hurt them all so badly.

It really was my country. Full of ignorant, sadistic, lying pieces of shit and _I fit right in._

The wind was back, and it was warm. I closed my eyes, blinking out the tears.

Took a deep breath.

Opened them.

_And of course, I’d done it again._

Yellow, orange, red, hot, detestable, violent, disgusting, the trees around where I sat lit up like giant candles, burning branches crumbling to the ground, and of course – here it was, more and more irrefutable evidence – because everything else wasn’t enough – more proof because the world knew it and wanted me to know it too – wanted it burned into the trees and the landscape and into me – wanted me to know it and to suffer, and I wanted to scream. Why this? _Why me?_ – And why did it have to be fire, stupid fucking fire that destroyed every beautiful thing in its path – why couldn’t I have created a tornado or a whirlpool or an avalanche – anything but this! – but it was here, the spark was there and now it was burning and it wouldn’t stop – and why fire? – for the exact reason that Aang’s first choice was air – _listen to what Roku told you, don’t be such a fucking idiot, you know it, accept it – this is you now._ This is who I was, and I wished I wasn’t like this, wished I wasn’t me, wished _I_ wasn’t.

“(y/n)!” came a voice that I didn’t hear until it was practically a scream. “(y/n), what on earth is going on, are you alright – (y/n)!”

I lay down, staring up into the flames and the sky. Maybe it would be better if they never found me.

“(y/n), come on, you could get hurt! Please just come out and whatever it is, we can talk about it!”

I wanted to come out, wanted to go to my friends and then we’d eat and I would sleep and tomorrow, we’d be flying off on Appa and I could pretend none of this ever happened.

“(y/n), please… We're worried about you!”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stop the tears or the flames, and I hated it all.

“(y/n)!”

And then, suddenly, the flames around me disappeared and I was soaked. Freezing water poured onto me, and I sat up, the shock momentarily pushing out all other thoughts.

“What the –”

“(y/n)! What happened here? You could have hurt yourself!” Katara ran towards me, followed by the others.

“I-I… I just… I’m sorry…”

“(y/n), just tell us what happened,” said Sokka.

“I… The memories, they’re… they’re gone.”

“What! (y/n), what do you mean?”

“They’re gone and they’re not coming back, Roku told me, and I… I’m so sorry I’m… like this, I… Aang, I’m sorry.”

“She realized,” Katara whispered at the others, and they nodded.

“Hey, look, it’s not like you’re personally responsible for the war!” said Sokka. “And your parents – weren’t they also –”

“That’s different!” I interrupted. “They’re the exception, and they’re nothing like the others!”

“Well, can't you also be an exception?” Toph asked.

I looked down. I didn’t know what to say to that except that no, I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry I have to be like this. I wish I could be different. I wish I could change –”

 _Wait._ I _could_ change. If I tried really hard, tried to act as peaceful as possible –

“(y/n), you’re fine as you are. You’re being way too hard on yourself,” said Katara.

“And it’s okay if you can’t remember,” said Aang. “You’re not a bad person.”

But I _was_ a bad person. And I would try to change that – push down every strong emotion, try not to think about Azula, and I would definitely never, ever firebend again.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with... that,” I said, gesturing towards the trees. “But you won’t ever have to again. Ever.”

Katara sounded concerned as she asked me, “What do you mean?”

“I won’t be the person I was anymore. I’m going to change. I’ll try my best, I promise.”

“Change? – in what way?” asked Aang.

“For the better.” I offered him a weak smile, and started heading off towards my tent. I was exhausted, and I hoped that in my sleep, I would dream about anything other than this. If I couldn’t be a different person through my memories, then I’d just have to force the fire out of me.

I _had_ to.

I had no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … and now everyone unsubscribes. DGSGKSKG sorry not sorry for this chapter: we’re not having an edgy forgotten past as well as an edgy present! There’s only so much that my soul can take 😪 Which sounds strange coming from the girl that just wrote a long ass mental breakdown, but... Anywayzzz, thus begins (y/n)’s highkey angsty, highkey beefy, HIGHKEY irrational identity crisis!! ✌


	21. Fake It Till You Make It

Empty, barren land, littered with holes – Aang's choice of mini-vacation, an appropriate place to start the week. Waiting as Aang blew a note on the flute, we stood there for a few seconds, watching the dirt. A feeling of stillness and anticipation hung in the air, the five of us frozen in time.

It felt like that for me, ever since that night. Like hitting a dead end, but at the same time, not – like something worse was still to come – dropping from the second-floor window onto the road, except the road would open up as well, a trapdoor hidden underneath the dust, and I’d keep falling down, down, down into the earth, never stopping. Frozen, and yet falling. Waiting, watching it happen.

The difference was that singing groundhogs popped out after Aang’s note – cute and funny – a happy ending. The anticipation had been for a good thing, and now everyone was smiling – except for Sokka, but he was never a supporter of the mini-vacations idea in the first place – and it was the suspense of excitement in everyone’s faces a few seconds before – far from my nervous fear of I didn’t know what. I wanted to be happy with them. I would improve, be a better person, I’d decided that and there was no point dwelling on the past! – Air Nomads detached themselves from earthly concerns, _they_ didn’t dwell on the past. I faked a smile and laughed along with them. I tried not to think how it was “they” now, instead of “we".

To tell the truth, I hadn’t been a fan of the mini-vacations, either.

“This is great and all, but don’t we have more important things to worry about? We should be making plans,” said Sokka, and I wanted to agree.

We should be planning, or training, or travelling. Putting an end to this war. _But I should relax, enjoy myself, detach if only for a moment–_

“Even if you do master all of the elements, then what? It’s not like we have a map of the Fire Nation. Should we just head west until we reach the Fire Lord's house?” Sokka said, and I still couldn’t bring myself to disagree.

“Hey, (y/n), wouldn’t you know roughly where to go?” asked Aang.

I froze.

“She could give us a few helpful pointers, but it’s not like she’s memorized a map of the whole country,” retorted Sokka. “We need more precise intelligence if we’re going to win this war. No offense,” he quickly added.

None was taken, but I didn’t say it and instead quickly flashed a smile I didn’t feel. I hadn’t detached myself from all these feelings, and now I couldn’t detach myself from being associated with _that place._ Thank goodness Sokka stepped in and I didn’t have to answer. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to agree with him about the vacations. _But even if it’s right, I shouldn’t be controversial, not now._

I said nothing.

We went to the Misty Palms Oasis next – the name nicer than the place – a tiny ice spring surrounded by sand and dust. Katara’s suggestion – one she must have regretted. There was a bar there, and we went inside – maybe at least the drinks would be nice?

“I don’t see anything wrong with having one of those fruity beverages while we plan our strategy,” said Sokka, running up to the bartender.

Meanwhile, a man bumped into Aang, spilling his drink onto him.

“No worries, I clean up easy,” said Aang, airbending the drink out of his clothes.

The man gasped. “You’re a living relic!”

“Thanks,” shrugged Aang, “I try.”

“An Air Nomad, right in front of me. Professor Zei, head of anthropology at Ba Sing Se University,” he introduced himself, “Tell me, which of the air temples do you hail from?”

“The Southern Temple.”

“Oh, splendid! Now tell me – what was the primary agricultural product of your people?”

“Uh, are fruit pies an agricultural product?”

“Oh, truly fascinating,” said Professor Zei, taking out a pen, “That is one for the journal.”

I watched him write, excited for a moment. Someone genuinely knowledgeable about culture and history, interested in Air Nomads, maybe I should – ?

 _I’m an Air Nomad, too_ – I wanted to say, but the words froze on my lips. It would feel wrong now, to call myself an Air Nomad. It would feel like lying, like impersonation, taking something that wasn’t mine – could have been mine, should have been mine but wasn’t – but I would fix that, soon, I just needed more time – would I fix it though? Was it possible? – I didn’t know and I was such a fraud.

It’s not like I would be useful to Professor Zei. It’s not like I remembered anything, anyway.

I said nothing.

In the end, we decided to travel into the desert. Professor Zei didn’t have the information we needed, but he did know of a secret library. I wondered why secret libraries seemed to pop up all the time when it came to my life, though “popping up" was the wrong choice of word, because we got on Appa and took off, and for hours, we could see nothing but sand.

“Wan Shi Tong and his knowledge seekers collected books from all over the world, and put them on display for mankind to read, so that we might better ourselves,” Professor Zei had said earlier.

Perhaps the library was what I needed – books to read and better myself. Though… I’d spent the time since I’d woken up reading, thought it was helpful back then, found out now that it wasn’t. Maybe there was no point in me going in. Maybe I should stay outside with Appa – or maybe I was just scared, didn’t want any more reminders of back then. It was the books that did it, after all. Azula would have had no evidence if it weren’t for the books. Not like they needed evidence when it came to her, though.

Still, I wouldn’t go in.

“Does this place even exist?” groaned Toph, after a while.

“Some say it doesn’t,” responded Zei.

“Shouldn’t you have mentioned that before?”

I wondered if the library did exist, if it even mattered. Earlier this morning, I wanted to drop the mini-vacations and do something productive, but now, melting under the hot rays of the sun, I just wanted to sleep.

“Down there, what’s that?” shouted Sokka suddenly, pointing at a speck in the sand.

As Appa descended, I saw what looked to be a small tower.

“Forget it. It’s obviously not what we’re looking for,” said Katara.

This small tower was nothing compared to the illustrations of the enormous building Professor Zei had shown us. But then, there came a fox, a scroll in its mouth, and it ran up the tower, disappearing into a window.

“I think that was one of the Knowledge Seekers,” said Zei. “Oh, we must be close to the library!”

“No, this is the library – look!” exclaimed Sokka. “It’s completely buried!”

“The library is buried?! My life's ambition is now full of sand!” he cried dramatically. “Well, time to start excavating!

Toph placed her hand on the part of the library rising above the sand. “Actually, that won’t be necessary. The inside seems to be completely intact. And it’s huge.”

“That fox thingy went in through a window,” said Sokka. “I say we climb up there and give it a look.”

“I say you guys go on ahead without me.”

“I’ll stay outside, too.” I said. “Toph and I can look after Appa.”

“Thanks!” said Aang, before turning to Appa. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m not making you go underground ever again.”

With that, they climbed into the window, and Toph, Appa and I remained.

I still wanted to sleep.

* * *

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I woke up, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. Not that it was important now.

“(y/n), help!” shouted Toph, and I rushed towards her. Heels dug into the sand, she was pushing against the library, pushing it _up,_ I realized – what was going on? – “What are you waiting for? Hurry up, help me, the library is sinking!” she shouted, and I put my hands against the falling tower before I could fully process what was going on.

I didn’t know if I was actually of any help. Toph didn’t seem to be struggling any less, although the library was enormous and even with ten more people here to help us, it wouldn’t have made things much easier. Seconds passed that felt like minutes, and it was a miracle that the library hadn’t already sunk into the desert and taken us with it.

Somewhere nearby, Appa grunted.

“What is it now?” snapped Toph, but of course she was worried. The grunt had been nervous, afraid, even – a tone rarely heard from Appa. “(y/n), I’ll take care of the library,” she instructed. “You deal with this, whatever it is.”

I let go of the library, and looked towards Appa.

I gasped. “Sandbenders!”

“Who?” grunted Toph, but there was no time to explain. The sandbenders circled Appa, ropes in their hands, and I had to act now. I had no idea what to do.

Air? I tried blowing a gust of wind at them, sand lifting off the ground as I attacked. At least I wasn’t entirely hopeless at airbending now – one of them was knocked aside – but then he got up again and the others threw their ropes over Appa and there wasn’t enough time.

Water? Me of all people, in a desert of all places – no way.

Earth? I could do that, theoretically – but there was no earth nearby – there was sand, though, so maybe I could try? – I saw the sandbenders solidify the ground beneath their feet, rooting themselves in so they could drag Appa away – and I shot a nearby pile of sand at them, and, of course, most of it dissipated in the air before it could reach them. The rest was effortlessly bended away.

Air again? I tried another gust of wind to soften the sand they stood on, make them sink into the desert so they couldn’t drag Appa away, at least – but the sand I’d managed to blow away grew up their legs once more, stronger and more solid than ever, encasing their legs like creeping crystal.

So – what then? I looked around and saw Toph drop the library for a second, attempting to attack the Sandbenders, but it was no use. I knew what then. I knew I had no time to hesitate, couldn’t afford to be slow or selfish, had to ignore the fear and disgust. I closed my eyes – at least nobody would see it, then – out of sight, out of mind – I felt the heat grow on my hand, and then - I jumped back and my eyes shot open. What the – I gazed into it, and knew then that _I couldn’t._ I couldn’t attack, because it, _I_ , was out of control, severely. I’d tried to make it all go away, distract myself with promises that it wasn’t forever and I could change, but the feelings blazed and raged away in my subconscious and now here they were, physically taking shape and I couldn’t control something of that size or destructive power. I shook it off me, moving fast, breathing faster – I wanted it gone, missed the cold and the rain and _where was Appa?_ I looked around – and there he was, in the distance, trailing through the desert behind the sandbenders –

“I’m sorry, Appa,” Toph whispered, and I closed my eyes.

 _Appa was gone._ Appa was gone and I couldn’t save him. Useless in all the elements but one, and even that hadn’t helped me now. Hadn’t helped Appa.

Aang, Katara and Sokka came out a minute later, and the library finally sank completely.

“We got it. There’s a solar eclipse coming. The Fire Nation’s in trouble now!” smiled Sokka, not yet realizing what happened.

But Aang noticed immediately. “Where’s Appa?” he asked, and Toph shook her head. He looked at me next, desperately searching for a different answer, one I couldn’t give. I looked down.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

For a moment, he said nothing, staring off into the desert as tears appeared in his eyes. Then –

“How could you two let them take Appa? Why didn’t you stop them?” He was shouting, angrier than I’d ever seen him, and he had the right.

“We couldn’t!” responded Toph. “The library was sinking! You guys were still inside and –”

“You could’ve come to get us. I could’ve saved him!”

“I can hardly feel any vibrations out here. The sandbenders snuck up on us and there wasn’t time for –"

“You just didn’t care!” Aang snapped. “You never liked Appa! You wanted him gone!”

“Aang, this isn’t Toph’s fault,” I interjected. “She was holding up the –”

“I get it, she was busy. But you,” he turned to me, suddenly, his face filled with rage and pain, “You could have stopped them! What were _you_ doing all this time?”

“She tried her best!” said Toph.

“No, she didn’t,” he said, and turned back to me. “You’re too hung up in your little identity crisis to notice the world around you. Appa was stolen and you did nothing to stop it!”

“There wasn’t much she could do!” Toph jumped in again.

“There was _lots_ she could do, if she’d just firebended –”

“She would have hurt Appa!”

Katara walked over to Aang and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Aang, stop it. You know Toph and (y/n) did all they could. (y/n) is going through a hard time now, and Toph just saved our lives.”

“Who’s going to save our lives now?” said Sokka. “We’ll never make it out of here.”

“That’s all any of you guys care about, yourselves! You don’t care whether Appa is okay or not!”

“We’re all concerned,” said Katara, “but we can’t afford to be fighting now.”

Aang’s next words came out cold and determined. “I’m going after Appa.” And with that, he flew off.

“Aang, wait!” called Katara, but it was no use. Aang was gone.

And so, we walked, not knowing where but what else could we do? The desert stretched out for miles around us, empty and endless, the sun burning relentlessly in the sky, and we were tired, and hungry, and our throats were dry with thirst, and all we knew was that we had to keep going. I was thankful that throughout all this, nobody spoke. I didn’t think I could bear to talk about it. Appa was gone, and every step we took, feet sinking into the scorching sand, reminded us of that, reminded me how hopeless I’d been. Because somehow, my stupid self still hadn’t learned to bend air effectively, still couldn’t bend the slightest bit of water after all this time, and I couldn’t even stay calm enough to bend the one element where I was halfway decent.

But deep down, I was thankful. I hated myself for thinking this – when Appa was gone, our friend and the last remnant of Aang's past, and Aang was crushed by that fact, and we were all stuck in this desert with potentially no way out – how on earth could I possibly be thankful? Another question I asked myself as if I didn’t know the answer.

I was thankful I hadn’t had to firebend. Just a minute, eyes half-closed, not thought about afterwards, only Toph to witness me – even that would have been too much. So maybe it was better if I couldn’t control it now. Maybe that meant it couldn’t control me – I was slowly breaking away from that country, wouldn’t have to be associated with it anymore, could leave it all behind and go back to being an Air Nomad – _there’s no coming back after these things. It’s part of you now –_ and I silenced that voice in my head, just as I silenced the thoughts that the massive fireball I hadn’t intended to form didn’t mean I was breaking away from anything at all. _You firebend, hate yourself for it, and those feelings fuel your bending even more, to the point where it grows beyond your control, just like your feelings. In other words, a vicious circle._ I didn’t want to stay in the desert anymore. It was too silent, too empty – a void, a vacuum – because when there is an empty space, things rush in to fill it – thoughts I didn’t want to think. And as much as I convinced myself that it was okay, this was all ridiculous, delusional psychoanalysis brought on by the dizzying heat of the desert, it didn’t make the thoughts go away, nor the unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach that they were right. There was that falling sensation again, the trapdoor hidden in the dust, and in this imaginary world, there no longer seemed to be a limit – the floor was trapdoor after trapdoor and there was no escape.

After a while, Katara let us drink her bending water.

“We’ve got to try to conserve it,” she said, bending small blobs of water out of her pouch into our mouths, and even though it was her bending water, at least it was something.

“You used this on the swamp guy! Urgh!” exclaimed Sokka.

“It does taste swampy,” confirmed Toph.

The taste didn’t matter anymore. At least it was cold. At least my mouth didn’t feel as dry.

“I’m sorry,” said Katara. “It’s all we have.”

“Not anymore! Look!”

We all looked over as Sokka pointed at a cactus.

“Sokka, wait! You shouldn’t be eating strange plants!”

But Katara’s warning came too late, and Sokka poured the cactus juice down his throat, thoughts clouded with thirst.

“Drink cactus juice! It’ll quench ya! Nothing’s quenchier! It’s the quenchiest!”

And so, Sokka was officially drugged and out of commission, and still, we had to keep going. Aang was out there, somewhere, and we had to find him, and then, at least we could all leave the desert. I didn’t dare hope that we’d find Appa too. Life had never been so kind to us.

Time didn’t exist in the desert. Consciously, we knew the sun had moved, saw how the shadows changed with the passing of the day, deep orange silhouettes against the dunes. It all seemed meaningless now. Hours went by, but the sands didn’t change, the same dusty heat pressing down on us like a blanket – the scratchy kind, heavy and sticky and so, so hot — suffocating, oppressive, and I barely had the energy to complain. Not that talking would have done me, or any of us any good. Words were a precious resource now – say too much and you dry up your throat, and we couldn’t afford for any of Katara’s bending water to go to waste. That, or we could drink the cactus juice. It wouldn’t be too bad, now, maybe even better than this. At least then I could imagine that, amongst the visions of circle birds and friendly mushrooms, everything was still okay – Aang was there, Appa was too, and we were heading out of the desert – we knew where we were going and it would all work out. On second thought, maybe it was best to keep away from the cactus juice. This false, hallucinatory hope would have to eventually end, after all – the inevitable jolt into reality. I’d had enough of false hope, lately.

It was twilight when we found Aang, or, to be exact, Aang found us. He landed behind us on his glider, sand floating over him with the impact.

“I’m sorry, Aang,” said Katara immediately, walking over to him. “I know it’s hard for you right now but… we need to focus on getting out of here.”

She put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, and he pulled away.

“What’s the difference?” he mumbled hopelessly. “We won’t survive without Appa. We all know it.”

I wished I could tell him he was wrong. I wished Iroh was here – “You must never give into despair,” he used to say – “Allow yourself to slip down that road, and you surrender to your lowest instincts.” Exactly the words for the situation, but I wasn’t Iroh, and I couldn’t say them with the same serene conviction – I wondered if I still believed in them myself – and if I said them, I would be such a hypocrite.

“Come on, Aang,” said Katara. “We can do this if we work together. Right, Toph?”

“As far as I can feel, we're trapped in a giant bowl of sand pudding. I got nothin'.”

“Sokka? Any ideas how to find Ba Sing Se?”

Sokka pointed up to the sky. “Why don’t we ask the circle birds?”

Katara grabbed her head in annoyance. “Ugh… We're getting out of this desert, and we’re going to do it together! Aang, get up. Everybody, hold hands. We can do this. We have to.”

And so, I took Toph’s and Sokka’s hands, and we all walked on, staggering up dune after dune as the orange shadows turned grey, as the last rays of the setting sun died on our faces. At least it wasn’t that hot anymore. At least we had Aang with us.

It took until the next day to find something of use amongst the sands. We’d decided to settle down and sleep the night before, and from the morning onwards, our plan would be to navigate to Ba Sing Se under the stars – travelling at night, and resting when the day was at its hottest. After a few hours of sleep that most of us didn’t actually get, we decided to set off once more. That was when we found it.

Toph tripped over it, and at first, we thought it was just a rock – it looked the size, anyway. But then –

“Ow! Crud! I am so sick of not feeling where I’m going! And what idiot buried a boat in the middle of the desert?”

“A boat?” asked Katara, running over to inspect it.

“Believe me, I kicked it hard enough to feel plenty of vibrations,” Toph groaned.

When Aang and Katara cleared the sand away from the object, they found that it was indeed a boat, or close enough to one, anyway.

“It's one of the gliders the sandbenders use!” Katara exclaimed. “And look! It's got some kind of compass on it! I bet it can point us out of here!”

For the first time since Appa’s disappearance, hope returned to our faces.

“Aang, you can bend a breeze so we can sail it,” said Katara. “We're going to make it!”

The glider was fast, faster than I’d expected. Aang blew us forward, and we sailed through the desert, wind rushing past us; a welcome cold. There was a compass on the glider, and though, as we found out, it didn’t face North, it had to lead somewhere, and where else could we go? One direction was as good as any other, and, as Sokka said, still recovering from the effects of yesterday’s cactus juice, “I’m sure the sand folks who built this baby know how to get around here.”

Eventually, a silhouette came into view in the distance, barely distinguishable in the darkness of the early morning.

“That’s what the compass is pointing to!” Katara realized – “That giant rock! It must be the magnetic center of the desert!”

“A rock? Yes! Let’s go!”

And because the giant rock in the middle of nowhere _had_ to mean something, we rode on, color fading into the sky as the sun rose – the official beginning of the new day, and we were there.

There was something about the caves in the rock that made me uneasy. Holes, dozens of them, arranged systematically, row upon row – too messy to be man-made, and yet, decidedly _made_ by something. We all noticed it. But then – Toph could see now, I thought. She’d tell us if something was amiss, and anyway, Sokka was free of the effects of the cactus juice, we were all together here, so everything would _have_ to be fine.

I guess we all felt like that, which is why none us said anything about the yellow goo dripping from the walls, a scene from a bad horror story come to life. Sokka tried some, laughing cheerfully about it afterwards – “tastes like rotten penguin meat,” he said, and it was funny and we laughed, not questioning what it was or how it got here. And yet, the slight feeling of unease remained, exacerbated by the darkness, the dampness, the rhythmic _drip, drip, drip_ of the walls.

And then, there came the buzzing. Low, at first – a toneless hum, white noise, blending in with the footsteps and the walls – a faint echo. We noticed then, stopped walking. It got louder.

“There’s something buzzing in here,” said Toph. “Something that’s coming for us!”

And that’s all the explanation we needed. We ran out of the cave as fast as our legs would carry us, not looking back.

The next minutes played out like a flashback, a memory, a reinforcement. The same all over again – an enemy coming at us, something I should have been able to take on easily, should have but couldn’t. Katara had her water, Toph had her earth, and Aang had his air, even Sokka had his boomerang – and I was helpless.

 _They’re only buzzard wasps,_ I told myself. _Life hasn’t conspired against you to teach you a lesson or anything – you’re not important enough!_ And I knew all this, but it felt like that anyway – a real-time, real-life collection of all my failures – the self-control for firebending gone, not enough practice in other elements, leaving everyone else to look out for me _again_ – and they were all too good to see me as at best an inconvenience and at worst a burden – which I suppose made it all the worse, because I didn’t deserve them.

A buzzard wasp snatched Momo up, and _oh no oh my goodness no,_ it wasn’t just a reminder anymore, but a full-out reproduction – right down to the loss of Aang’s remaining pet. I wondered what would be lost next. One of us? I hoped it would be me.

Immediately, Aang took off, flying after the wasp, anger and determination on his face. He was so different now, since the loss of Appa – understandable, of course, given the circumstances – but I wondered just how much he was hurt, at all the strength he had. Twelve, his people gone, nobody to guide him, the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and even so, he’d always been so happy and carefree. I suppose I’d always known he felt it, and we all did, but we’d hardly _seen_ it, not like now. And it wasn’t tears – though he had the right – it was determination now, persistence – he was going to get Momo back, no matter what.

I needed to be like that, too. What was I doing out here, useless like a sack of dried leaves, or an empty paper bag, or – here I was again, coming up with similes, poeticizing my pathetic thoughts as if that made it better, romanticizing like my life was some beautiful tragedy torn from the pages of a novel. It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t tragic. Just selfishness, dirt and stupidity.

And then, the sandbenders came, bending sand pillars from the ground that scared the wasps off for good. We covered our faces with our arms as the wind blew the pillars apart, and then Aang emerged from the sand, and there was Momo – _thank goodness._ At least he was safe.

“What are you doing in our land with a sandbender sailer?‌ From the looks of it, you stole it from the Hami tribe,” said one of the sandbenders. They’d stolen Appa, and yet they stood there, accusing as if we were the thieves.

“We found the sailer abandoned in the desert. We're travelling with the Avatar. Our bison was stolen, and we have to get to Ba Sing Se,” explained Katara. The man’s eye widened a bit at ‘Avatar’, but he said nothing. Instead, another man stepped forward.

“You dare accuse our people of theft while you ride on a stolen sand sailer?”

“Quiet, Ghashiun,” the first man spoke. “No one accused our people of anything. If what they say is true, we must give them hospitality.”

But his words didn’t matter anymore, because Toph and I knew that man.

“I recognize the son’s voice,” she said, words heavy with the sudden impact of a cup smashing in a silent room – “He’s the one that stole Appa.”

A pause, suffocating.

Katara’s tentative question: “Are you sure?”

“I never forget a voice.”

“You stole Appa!” shouted Aang, rushing forward, staff pointed at the man. “Where is he? What did you do to him?”

“They’re lying! They’re the thieves!” retaliated the man, lying through his teeth as he stepped back – a disgusting display of cowardice.

“Where is my bison? You tell me where he is now!”

Aang sent a blast of wind at one of the sailers – outright attacking now, and it flew back, wind tearing it to pieces.

“What did you do?” said the first man - the father, panic overpowering his voice.

“I-it wasn’t me!”

“You said to put a muzzle on him!” shouted Toph.

_“You muzzled Appa!”_

A swing of his staff, and now, all the other sailers lay in pieces, destroyed. A light emanated from him, and sure enough, his eyes and tattoos were beginning to glow, turning white – power, spirituality, white-hot rage – and here it was again, the Avatar State.

The man tried to apologize now, denial gone, now begging in fear for forgiveness, and his words no longer mattered.

 _“Tell me where Appa is!”_ – The voices of the Avatars spoke at once – an army – more than that, even – the voices of spirits, of deities, the universe itself flowing through Aang’s words, and the sandbenders shook.

“I traded him! To some merchants!” said Ghashiun – a futile, desperate attempt at saving himself – because himself is all he cared about. “He’s probably in Ba Sing Se by now! They were going to see him there! Please!” – a grovel now, pathetic – “We’ll escort you out of the desert! We’ll help however we can!”

It didn’t register, it didn’t matter. Aang stood there, surrounded by winds, stronger and stronger around them as they swirled – a hurricane, a sandstorm now – huge, overwhelming, dangerous –

“Just get out of here! Run!” yelled Sokka, and his hand was on mine, pulling me out of there, breaking my trance, pulling Toph as well, and thank goodness the cactus juice wore off in time.

Aang dropped his staff. The wind rushed faster still around him, a whirl, never slowing or stopping, sand dragged along, sucked into it – a tornado – and if I hadn’t moved, if Sokka hadn’t dragged me – _Katara!_

She was there, gazing at the sphere, stood put. Sadness filled her eyes – no tears, just sorrow, an ache. The sand engulfed her – and she looked so small in comparison – she stood there, let it happen. And then – she was in, inside the sphere with Aang, and between that and us shielding our eyes from the sand, we lost sight of her. The sphere lifted, yellow air and sand like a shaking star, and she was in there – was she alright? – was Aang alright? – and then, they descended.

We lifted our hands from our faces and took it in. The sand fell back to the ground like snowflakes, the wind dying to a whisper. No more hurricane, no more sphere. The fading light in Aang’s eyes illuminated the tears streaming down his cheeks, and he didn’t move, returning to his senses pressed against Katara’s chest, shaking with silent sobs. And Katara was crying too, clutching him tightly in a hug, not letting go even when Sokka, Toph and I finally approached, or when the sandbenders offered to escort us out of the desert. Even when we were on a sand sailer, gliding through the desert towards a better place, she still held onto his hand, hot sun drying their tears. Even if all else was lost, they had each other.

* * *

We ended up spending the night at a waterfall, dropped there by the sandbenders and too overwhelmed and tired to go any further. We were all in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. But, thankfully, the morning was a bright and happy one and we all felt better, and even Aang seemed to be enjoying himself. Of course, it was far from that simple and we all knew it – that kind of grief doesn’t just go away after one breakdown, but he didn’t talk about it, locking the feelings deep down inside where we couldn’t reach them. It was alright to talk about Appa, he said – he wasn’t upset anymore, he just wanted to focus on getting to Ba Sing Se and speaking to the Earth King, no distractions. We all knew what the real distraction was. Still, we didn’t bring it up.

We were approached by a group of refugees, eventually – a pregnant woman and her husband, also wanting to get to Ba Sing Se. They seemed far more familiar with the system than we were – as it turned out, there was a ferry we could travel on from Full Moon Bay. It was hidden, too, from the Fire Nation – a pleasant-sounding journey – until we arrived and it turned out we needed passports.

At first, Toph solved the problem for us: “Ah, the golden seal of the flying boar!” – the ticket lady said upon seeing Toph’s passport – “It is my pleasure to help anyone of the Beifong family.”

And so, posing as her valets and her seeing-eye lemur, we were given tickets of our own, and were just about to get on the ferry when we saw the refugees again.

“Avatar Aang, you have to help us! Someone took all our belongings; our passports, our tickets, everything’s gone!” said the pregnant woman.

“I’ll talk to the lady for you,” suggested Aang, at first.

But, of course, the ticket lady didn’t budge, and so, tickets discarded, we found ourselves taking the supposedly deadly route for the truly desperate – the Serpent’s Pass.

* * *

“So, Suki. This is Toph, and this is (y/n). Toph and (y/n), this is Suki. Remember I told you about her, we met at Kyoshi Island?” said Katara.

We’d entered the pass by now – “abandon hope” – the sign had said, how original – and Suki had decided to come with us. Though I hadn’t met her personally until now, I’d heard great things about her from Sokka, and now that I got the chance to see her in person, she definitely deserved the praise. She was voluntarily taking us along the Serpent’s Pass for one, and that said more about her courageous and caring nature than words ever could. And, as well as that, I was looking forward to meeting someone to whom I was a blank slate – I could start afresh, be seen as the person I wanted to be, even if it was just by one person.

“Hi,” said Toph.

“Hey, it’s so nice to meet you! And you, too, (y/n),” Suki said, turning to me. “Actually, I think I’ve seen you before, back at the island.”

“Wait, what? You have?” Goodness, I was not expecting that.

“You’ve met?” asked Sokka, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you were the girl with Katara, fighting that soldier, right? I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you two, I was busy in a fight of my own and I just ran past… Anyway, I gotta say, (y/n), I think it’s really brave of you to stand up to your country like that!”

I froze. Crap. So she’d seen me back there, firebending. So in that second, she’d happened to be there. And that meant – she thought –

“I-I’m not actu…” I trailed off. Wasn’t I? Just as bad, anyway, worse – they were born into it, I adopted it _despite_ –

“She’s not from there, Suki,” said Katara - that low voice after someone makes an especially bad social faux pas – “She can bend the four elements, just like Aang.”

“Oh, I see! That’s so cool, and sorry…” she said, excited and embarrassed, and the conversation died there.

So there really was no fresh start for me, after all. It was all the same, no matter where I went, who I went to, like they could sense it, smell its putrid odor, why had I thought – _calm down, so she just happens to remember a fight, who cares, stop being so dramatic! Where did all that talk about changing go, huh?_ – and yeah, that was right, all this stupid self-pity didn’t mean anything – did I really ever think that just not bending was enough, that barely speaking was enough, that I could just go with the flow forever – that just meant I wasn’t _currently_ , didn’t mean I wasn’t!

I still couldn’t bear to say what it is exactly that I _wasn’t_. Was. Wouldn’t be.

 _Think._ What would an Air Nomad do?

“Sorry about earlier, Suki,” I said. “I totally overreacted. I really didn’t want to make things awkward.”

“No worries at all. I’d be kind of offended too…”

 _Wait, what was that supposed to –?! –_ Stop _._

“So, anyway, what kind of stuff do you do around here?” – _Oh my goodness, what was that? – “stuff”? “around here”? – so vague, why was I so bad at small talk? –_ “As your job, I mean,” I clarified, embarrassed.

“Well, I just act as a security guard. In case anyone tries to smuggle weapons, or small animals, you know? – we’ve even had a few cases of… illegal substances around here. The platypus bear usually deals with the disposal part, as you’ve seen…” I smiled as I remembered how the bear ate a whole cart full of cabbages. “What we usually have to do is the finding part – and you would _not_ believe how crafty some people get. Sacred water, some man said, from the realm of the spirits! Swore up and down about its magical healing properties, how we shouldn’t touch it – you’d contaminate it with your dirty mortal hands, he said, I kid you not – anyway, I pry it away from him eventually, have our bear taste a drop… Turns out that all along it was cactus juice. Can you believe it? The bear was running around the center for hours afterwards, growling at the windows, waving his paws at the ceiling… Anyway, we cracked down on all suspicious liquids after that. So… yeah!” she finished, “Quite the job!”

The conversation moved on from there, with talks about Sokka’s cactus-related experiences, and with more stories from Suki about how things went at the border. I was thankful for the conversation – I didn’t have to do much talking, and it avoided awkward silences. We kept going for the whole day, and it was hot and I was tired, but anything beat the desert. The sun was beginning to set, the sky growing darker by the minute – but not yet lit up in orange and pink. We were passing a lake now.

“The Fire Nation control the Western Lake,” warned Suki. “Rumor has it they're working on something big on the other side of it and don't want anyone to find out what it is.

Whatever it was, I hoped we’d be able to avoid it. I really did not feel like yet another fight, especially given our opponents, but then – part of the rock we were walking along collapsed, and the refugee husband – Than, I think his name was – nearly fell. Luckily, Toph lifted him back up with earthbending, but we were spotted, and then it was too late.

A fireball flew at us, and thankfully, Aang deflected it back.

“They’ve spotted us! Let’s go, let’s go!” yelled Sokka.

Another fireball hit the mountain, sending debris flying onto Suki. Sokka pushed her out of the way, but then Toph saved them both.

“Suki, are you okay? You have to be more careful!” admonished Sokka. “Come on!”

And so, the ship left us alone, and we continued on. _Aang had to save them. Then Sokka had to save Suki, and Toph had to save him, and if I’d just deflected – I could have – they could have gotten hurt – what had I –_ the deed was done and there was no point thinking about it. Change on the outside wasn’t good enough, insufficient, insincere – I needed to change on the inside, too – and that had to start with no more overthinking _. I shouldn’t dwell on this. I should focus on my breathing! – or something… Yeah, that’s it. In for three seconds… Out now…_ And so, I tore the thoughts away from my mind, forcing them out, ignoring the voice that said it was just delaying dealing with the problem. I wouldn’t need to deal with the problem if I just got rid of the cause, after all.

It was sunset when we finally set up camp, laying our sleeping bags down on a large flat rock. I was next to Toph, which was convenient, seeing as Aang and Katara had gone off on their own, as had Sokka and Suki. So, that left the two of us, and after we’d eaten a bit, we decided to talk.

“I’ve noticed something with Aang, today,” she started, voice quiet in case he would return. “You’ve seen it too, right? Like he just… represses the thought of Appa.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” I whispered. “He just misses Appa really badly, but he won’t let himself feel it. I wish it didn’t have to turn out like this…”

“Me too. But (y/n), it isn’t our fault. We did our best, and so did you.”

“I… guess… I mean, yeah, of course! You were holding up that whole enormous library!”

“Yeah.” she said firmly. “But you did your best, too.”

“Uhhhhh…” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t just say my real thoughts – that would be dwelling on it, self-pity, far from the inner peace that Air Nomads were supposed to have. But then… saying ‘I know’… That would be lying, and furthermore that would be arrogant, conceited – would it though? – this was all so confusing – I was overthinking again – _again_ – was I really this incorrigible – _stop_ – “Thank you,” I finally settled.

“You know, (y/n), I didn’t figure out Aang’s feelings just from reading the room.” Her tone was even more serious now, low; sinister, almost – a warning. “I can feel the vibrations when he speaks. They’re not strong, not like when somebody is outright lying, but they’re still there in the background.”

“Oh, that’s cool that you can do that…?” I answered nervously, not knowing where this conversation was headed, not liking it.

“I mean that I can tell when someone’s faking, (y/n).”

“O-okay? Why are you telling me this?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thought I should let you know.”

I said nothing after that – what words would even be appropriate? The air got heavier with every following minute, the two of us sitting in silence, her last statement hanging around us like smoke – thick, suffocating. When Aang came back, I was thankful – for a minute, that is, until I saw his face – he was trying not to think about Appa. Katara followed soon after, and later, Sokka, but none of them brought relief, or spoke, even. What were we going to do, when we were all like this? Would this get any easier? I didn’t know. I wished I could leave it at that uncertain thought and go to sleep, but I couldn’t, and evidently, neither could they. But eventually, exhaustion got the better of me and I fell into an uncomfortable, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, we moved on. It turned out that a section of the pass was below sea level, so it wouldn’t be as easy to cross.

“Everyone, single file!” instructed Katara, dividing the water so everyone could walk through. “Aang, I need help!”

We walked though the water, the world drowned out amongst the waves, the sunlight blue, speckled with the purple shadows of fish. Momo jumped into the water, chasing after them, and for a while, we carried on through. But then, halfway through the water, we noticed it.

A shadow appeared in the water, dark and menacing – too large to just be a fish – and then, without warning, it broke through, materializing into some huge monster, and as I turned my head to look at it, water entered my eyes. Katara’s divide was breaking, and water started to flood in around us. Toph stomped down onto the ground, and rose us up on a platform, where it was quiet for a few seconds – suspense, some undefined shape circling us in the water – and then – a shriek, piercing, inhuman – it was the monster – a giant green serpent. _The Serpent’s Pass. Oh._

“I’ll distract it,” yelled Aang, blasting the serpent back with a burst of air. “Katara, get everyone across!”

Immediately, Katara froze the water, creating an ice trail, and we all ran across to safety, all except for Toph.

“Toph, come on, it’s just ice!” shouted Sokka.

“Actually, I’m going to stay on my little island, where I can see!” But the serpent was still there, hungry or at least enraged – and it crashed down onto her platform, destroying half of it. Slowly, she made her way across the ice, and was making stable progress until the serpent once again slammed its giant tail onto the ice trail, dropping Toph down into the icy lake.

“Help!” she shouted, “I can’t swim!”

“I’m coming, Toph!” yelled Sokka, but before he could do anything, Suki jumped into the water.

“Help!” shouted Toph once more, and then, she was submerged completely. Luckily, Suki was already there. She pulled Toph up above water, holding her up.

“Oh, Sokka, you saved me!” Toph said dreamily, kissing Suki on the cheek.

“Actually… it’s me.”

“Oh… well… You can go ahead and let me drown now.”

Meanwhile, Aang and Katara had trapped the serpent in a whirlpool, and it swirled around, no longer able to move on its own, before its head collided with a rock, and it passed out, sinking back into the water. Aang and Katara returned to us, and after making sure everyone was present and safe, we went on along the pass.

Now that we’d moved across the lake, the wall was in sight. It was still far off in the distance, a faint grey outline on the horizon – but it was unmistakably there, a sign that we were close.

“Now, it’s nothing but smooth sailing to Ba Sing Se,” said Sokka happily.

But then – “Oh no!” came the groan.

“What’s wrong?”

“The baby’s coming!”

It was impressive how well the birth ended up going, given the circumstances. Thanks to Katara’s experience, everyone was given a job to do – Toph made the tent, Sokka fetched the water, and Aang and I got the rags, as well as any other useful supplies we happened to find when rummaging through the bags. Suki and Katara did the actual medical stuff, and Sokka tried his hardest not to pass out.

A while later – probably a few hours, though it felt faster, time punctuated by groans and screams, we heard the joyful shout.

“It’s a girl!”

We all rushed to Ying’s side (even Sokka) and gazed at the baby.

“She sounds healthy,” commented Toph.

“She’s beautiful,” said Katara.

“It’s so… squishy looking.”

I giggled. “Congratulations,” I said, smiling at the couple.

“What should we name her?” asked Than.

“I want our daughter’s name to be unique. I want it to mean something.”

After a few seconds of thoughtful silence, Aang spoke. Surprised, I looked over at him – was he crying? “I’ve been going through a really hard time lately,” he said. “But you’ve made me… hopeful again.”

“I know what I want to name our baby now,” said Ying, looking at her child with love. “Hope.”

“That’s a perfect name,” said Than. “Hope.”

We left the tent after that, giving the couple some time alone with their daughter. I had no idea what it must have been like for them, giving birth here of all places – but maybe this was for the best. Serpent aside, this wasn’t such a bad place, after all. At the very least, it had finally made Aang hopeful again – Appa would be found, and even in the darkest places, there was always still a way out, always a chance.

“I’ll go on ahead to Ba Sing Se,” Aang told us, glider in hand. “I promise, I’ll find Appa as fast as I can. I just really need to do this.

“See you in the big city,” said Sokka.

“Say hi to that big fuzzball for me,” said Toph, lightly punching Aang in the arm.

“Tell him how much we’ve missed him,” I added.

“You’ll find him, Aang,” said Katara.

“I know. Thank you, Katara. You ready, Momo?”

And with that, he flew off. Katara watched it all, saw him becoming a spot in the sky, lost amongst the clouds before he disappeared completely. She missed him already, I knew, waving him goodbye when he was already gone. Meanwhile, Suki stepped aside for a personal conversation with Sokka. It was just Toph and I left there, now.

“So, (y/n), nearly at Ba Sing Se, huh?”

“Yeah… It feels weird to be so close, after all this time. I’ve always wanted to see the city – to hold out in the war for so long… that’s an impressive feat.”

“Sure is. Though I doubt the city will live up to your expectations.”

“What do you mean? Have you been there?”

“Yep, unfortunately. And it’s all high society, you know, everyone acting all snooty and posh – and nobody just tells you anything straight, it’s awful! If not for Appa and this eclipse business, I never would have gone back.”

“But I’ve heard –”

“Yeah, yeah – nice food, fancy architecture, all that nice stuff, in theory.” She sighed. “You’ll get sick of it as well in a few days. Just you wait.”

“Aw, I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Anyway, aren’t we all meant to be hopeful now?” I said, half-joking.

“Are you?”

Was I? I thought about it and… I guess I was. The birth must have had an effect on me too – of course, it was a miracle after all – new life brought into the world – born, born _again_ – blank slate, new leaf, start anew, _hope._

“I guess… I guess I am,” I said eventually.

“I’m glad. About time you stopped moping, anyway,” she smirked, lightly punching me on the arm. And so, we stood there for a few minutes, and now that I’d realized the beauty of it all – it was never too late for anything, there was always a chance, there was always _hope_ – it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I wasn’t falling anymore, no more floors, no more trapdoors – I’d been scared that I’d be stuck the way I was forever, that all my attempts to change would fail, that I’d forever be –

But I wouldn’t. There was plenty of time yet. All that mattered was that I _wanted_ it, that I was on the right track – if I wanted it hard enough, it would come, I would do it, because there was always a way. And then, in a few days’ time – Appa would be back with us, and the Earth King would know about the eclipse, he’d start drafting plans, and then, a few months after, the war would be over, once and for all.

We were making our way to the city, escorting the family when Aang came back, flying in on his glider with Momo behind him.

“Aang, what are you doing here?” asked Katara, “I thought you were looking for Appa.”

“I was, but something stopped me. Something big.”

We practically ran to the Outer Wall after that, and Toph carried us up on earth platforms.

“Now what’s so big that Appa has to wait?” asked Sokka.

“That.”

It was huge, moving at the wall like a living creature, a predator. Spikes pierced the ground, steam coming from inside the machine – a drill, accompanied by several regular tanks. Fire Nation tanks. Of course. It had been naive of me to expect anything different at this point. I was childish, I’d hoped, and, now that I’d been forced out of my happy fantasy land, readjusting to reality hurt.

The thing about false hope is that, for a minute, it seems to you to be real.

“We made it to Ba Sing Se and we’re still not safe!” cried Ying. “No one is!”

Before anyone could say anymore, a guard came up to us. “What are you people doing here? Civilians aren’t allowed on the wall!”

“I’m the Avatar,” said Aang. “Take me to whoever is in charge.”

The person in charge happened to be a man by the name of General Sung – though he didn’t exactly look experienced or even authoritative enough to fit that title. His words confirmed that assumption: “It is an honor to welcome you to the Outer Wall, young Avatar, but your help is not needed.”

“Not needed?”

“Not needed, I have the situation under control. I assure you the Fire Nation cannot penetrate this wall. Many have tried to break through it, but none have succeeded.”

“What about the Dragon of the West?” argued Toph. “He got in.”

“Well… uh, technically yes, but he was quickly expunged.”

Expunged? That was a lie – I’d heard the events straight from his mouth (and from propaganda, too – they were more than willing to discredit Iroh, blame the failure on him and him alone – anything to hide potential weaknesses in their army from the population – because if the soldiers were as competent as we were told they were, shouldn’t they have broken through anyway? – but _that doesn’t matter, don’t think about it, move on)._

“Nevertheless, that is why the city is named Ba Sing Se,” Sung continued. “It’s the 'impenetrable city’. They don’t call it Na Sing Se. That means ‘penetrable city’.”

“Yeah, thanks for the tour, but we still got the drill problem.”

Somehow, Toph was a more competent leader than this General, who seemed to think that ignoring the problem until it went away was a perfectly valid way to handle things. Nevertheless, he got to the point – it turned out that he’d sent an “elite platoon of earthbenders” to deal with it – the Terra Team.

We looked over the wall, seeing this highly praised Terra Team in action. They were focusing on the tanks – wrong move – the tanks were _nothing_ compared to the drill – and then they wedged earth spikes into the shell of the drill. Almost immediately, the drill segments separated, and the column crumbled back down to the ground. What were they even hoping to achieve by that – and more importantly, were they just going to give up now? – but then, the Terra Team started falling one by one. I couldn’t see why, but whatever it was, it was _bad_ , they were dropping like flies, and a minute later, they were all down, scattered on the ground like a child’s toy soldiers.

“We’re doomed!” yelled Sung.

“Maybe you’d like the Avatar’s help now?

“Yes, please.”

For another few minutes, we stood staring at the drill as the Terra Team members slowly crawled back to the wall.

“The question is, how are we going to stop that thing?” said Aang, and we all turned to Sokka.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“You’re the ideas guy.”

“So I’m the only one who can ever come up with a plan? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“And also the complaining guy,” said Katara.

“That part I don’t mind,” he smiled. “Maybe we should go see what the Terra Team says about the drill. They’ve seen it up close, so they’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”

We followed Sokka inside the wall and approached the injured soldiers – though, from a first glance, they looked for the most part to be fine. Still, Katara sat down next to one of them, inspecting him to see what happened.

“His chi is blocked,” she said eventually. “Who did this to you?”

“Two girls ambushed us. One of them hit me with a bunch of quick jabs and suddenly I couldn’t earthbend anymore and I could barely move. Then she cartwheeled away.”

Chi-blocking, cartwheels – I felt like I’d been dropped into a river of ice. No – it couldn’t be – but then _of course_ it was, of course it was _them_ –

“Ty Lee,” said Katara.

Ty Lee. Which meant that _she_ was here too.

I’d say I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, but this was worse. If that had been my situation, yes, there would have been nothing I could do. But I _could_ do nothing. This was different, and worse. This was walking over a canyon, suspended in midair, nothing but a bridge between me and a deadly drop. This was standing in the middle of the bridge as the rotten wood disintegrated beneath my feet, as the frayed ropes unravelled, turning to strings. The bridge couldn’t hold my weight, wouldn’t hold long enough for me to go back, or go forward, or even just stand still - I would fall and it was only a matter of when. There was no way I could follow my friends to the drill, and risk seeing Azula, because then there was no telling what I would do and I _couldn’t_ allow myself to do anything – I had to be peaceful, I had to be calm, I could not not not under any circumstance seek revenge now – because that would make me – that would mean – it was awful enough that I was still having such thoughts in the first place. But I couldn’t stay back and do nothing. My friends needed my help against that monstrous contraption, and I couldn’t let them down. I’d done that enough, lately. I couldn’t be helpless _again_ , not after that serpent and the bees and _Appa_ , oh my goodness – Appa – he was gone and I was there and Toph was holding up the library but what was I doing – standing there panicking and crying while he was probably being dragged away to horrible abuse or even death – pathetic, selfish! – even now I was spending all this time wallowing in self-pity while he was out there, somewhere, going through I didn’t know what – if I’d just –! And here it was, and here I would be again, refusing to help my friends over selfish, petty reasons because once again, I wouldn’t be able to force myself to calm down, and –

“(y/n), are you alright?”

Here I was, again. Just like last time – panicked breathing, eyes glazed over, staring off into space, maybe crying, _probably_ crying – _again, again, again!_ – and I’d already made them worry. I took a deep breath.

“I’m fine.”

 _Maybe they hadn’t noticed!_ – said some desperate voice in my head.

“(y/n), you don’t have to go. We’d understand if –”

“No, it’s fine, honestly. I can do this, no problem!”

“Are you sure?” asked Sokka, raising an eyebrow. “Azula is probably there too, you know –”

“No, no, it’s fine, I won’t lose it or anything!”

“And if we have to fight her?” asked Toph, though the tone of her voice made it very clear she knew what the answer would be – the honest one.

“I guess I’ll just… uh… try to be as peaceful as possible? I mean, uh – as possible – that’s not what I meant – I would never –” I took a breath, trying to compose myself, and told them what I wished was the truth, trying to convince myself if not them at least, as if saying the worlds would will it into existence. “I’m over that whole revenge thing. It’s right to be peaceful, and it’s right to forgive, and I shouldn’t be so hard on her because she must have had her reasons.”

‘ _She had her reasons’ – for causing the deaths of two innocent people?! (y/n), what are you saying – drop this stupid facade, this has gone way too far – ‘reasons’ – what the actual fuck? –_ but what could I say? Admit to what I really thought – no, not after that night – but this was wrong too, the words knives against my tongue – lies, disgusting, swallowing toads, snakes – pretending that I was this gentle, righteous person when there I was, lying through my teeth? Feeling it was bad enough, lying about it made it worse, but then – _aren’t these feelings justified? After what happened, after what I saw_ ­– but I couldn’t allow myself to think that – could I? – why not? – what do I think, what _should_ I think – I shouldn’t think at all.

It didn’t matter what I thought. I needed to shut it all off. Maybe I’d just switch to autopilot and that would be better. That could become the real me in time, too, when I got used to it. _In other words brainwashing myself, a wonderful idea_ – some voice, full of sarcasm – and then, that was it.

“I’ll go,” I said, voice uncharacteristically monotonous.

And so I went, running up to the drill like in a trance, following behind them. Stopping when they stopped, moving when they moved, no longer aware of what was happening. It was better this way, maybe – what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me – and I needed to think about _something_ , so I thought about the dust in the air, the whirr of the drill, the footsteps on the dry dirt, anything except what would happen inside the drill. _Cross that bridge when you come to it, cross that bridge –_ I thought to myself; a mantra, a prayer.

“There!” shouted Sokka eventually, and then Aang was gone, and then Sokka and Katara, and they went so I should go too, and I jumped.

I didn’t find myself inside the drill. Instead, hands gripped my legs – Toph?

“Come on, you two!” yelled Sokka from inside.

“No way am I going in that metal monster, I can’t bend in there!” Toph shouted back. “I’ll try to slow it down out here, and I’ll need (y/n) to help me too.”

“Okay, good luck!” And then he was off.

It didn’t register until a few seconds later, but we were alone now, Toph and I. I stared at her as she earthbended a wedge of rock into the drill, pushing on despite the drill not budging an inch.

“Is there something I could do out here?” I asked nervously.

“Not right now. Let me try again,” she said, panting slightly with the effort.

I let her try again for a few more minutes while I stood there, confused. Eventually, I couldn’t resist asking. “Why did you want me to stay down here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She sighed, letting go of the rocks for a minute. “So you didn’t have to face Azula. She probably won’t come out here, but what if you met her inside?”

“I-I could have dealt with that!” I said, ashamed of the immense wave of relief and gratitude I felt at hearing her words.

“Right,” she said, leaning back against a pillar she’d made. “And you’ve learned the value of forgiveness, not a single negative thought in your head, blah blah blah – _save it_. You and I both know you’re lying.”

“I-I’m not!” I protested.

She sighed again, crossing her arms. “Do you remember what I told you yesterday? About the vibrations?”

“…You can tell when someone’s faking?”

“Yes, that. But wow, (y/n), this has gone beyond faking.”

“W-what do you mean?”

I knew it was stupid of me to keep feigning ignorance at this point, but I couldn’t stop. The delusion I’d tried my hardest to build up the whole day – inside my own head if nobody else’s – was swiftly slipping from my grasp, dissipating away like sand, or ashes, and I had to hold on to what was left, otherwise –

“Do you need me to make you a list? ‘I’m over that whole revenge thing’? ‘I can do this, no problem’? ‘I’m fine?’”

“B-but –”

“No buts. Look, I know you want to be Pious Sister (y/n) right now, inner peace and pacifism and that – but inner peace doesn’t come from ignoring your feelings! It comes from dealing with them.”

Dealing with them – there was something I could work with. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” I reasoned – “I’m trying to overcome those feelings, because I know they’re wrong and I shouldn’t have them. So, I’m trying my best not to think about it and to act like a functional human being.”

“What do you mean – do you even hear yourself right now! Functional – pshhh – you were fine before that whole thing with the memories! You’re trying to force yourself into being something you’re not, and it isn’t making anything better!”

“But I have to – there’s no other way! Fake it till you make it, they used to say – right?”

“You _won’t_ make it! Not because _you_ can’t, but because it’s impossible!” She paused, thinking. “The person you’re trying to be doesn’t exist. You think Aang is some amazing pacifist, right? That he can just keep calm in all situations and never feels anything bad? Come on! You saw him the other day, when he found out Appa was stolen!”

“That’s different!”

“No, it isn’t! I don’t know why you think different standards apply to you than to others, but it isn’t right. No one can be some perfect, spiritual person all the time. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone feels things. So why can’t you?”

“Because I’ve made my mistakes, more than enough to last several lifetimes! Aang is a good person, and all the time, it shows. But I’m not. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes if I ever want to…” Ever want to what? I didn’t know what to say there. Ever want to feel like a person again? Ever want to be able to look at myself in the mirror without feeling horrendous shame?

“Do you think that all Air Nomads are perfect? That everyone from the Fire Nation is evil? Just because Roku said whatever he did, it doesn’t mean you’re a different person! It doesn’t mean you’re worse!”

“…That’s right, I’m not a different person. I was the same bad person all along, which is exactly the problem I’m trying to fix right now!”

Toph smacked herself on the head. “That’s not at all what I meant, and you know it. I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but the world’s not black and white. Just because you lived in some place for a couple years, picked up some things, met some people, all that stuff, it doesn’t make you bad!”

“Except I picked it up from the ‘some place’ that literally committed genocide!”

“And how are you part of that? What did you do, personally? Nothing! You have nothing to be ashamed of, all you did was have a personality!”

“And I don’t _want_ that personality, it disgusts me, I can’t be that! Better be a soulless husk and feel nothing than to behave and think like _that!_ ”

“Are you out of your mind? (y/n), do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

“I don’t care what it takes, I will _not_ be like them, not even a little –”

“Look down!”

I did, looking at the small patch of dried grass below me, and at this point, I didn’t know why every time it happened I was still surprised. There it was again, that familiar smell of smoke, faint but there nevertheless, and there was the heat and –

I stepped on it, stamping it out, ashes on the ground where my foot had been. This again. Of course.

For a minute, I stood there and thought, and Toph tried to keep working on the drill. I thought about the ship, about my talks with Zuko – how he must have felt. I knew what it was like, now – someone trying to help, a friend with good intentions – except what they said sounded all wrong, made things worse, even – denial was our solution, our defence against the world, against ourselves – and having someone tear that down was hard. We'd get defensive, say and do things we didn’t mean, lose our temper – not genuine anger but desperation, the cry of a cornered animal.

“Sorry,” I said. “You were only trying to help.”

“It’s alright. I guess I get why you’re doing it, at least. It’s just – you knew it so well when it came to Aang – ignoring your feelings never solves your problems. But when it comes to you… I don’t know,” she sighed. “Anyway, just know we're all here for you if you need to talk. We’re your friends.”

“Thank you. And, uh… is there anything I could do to help you with the drill?”

“Sure, just come over here and do what I’m doing.”

We left it at that, agreeing to disagree. I knew already I wouldn’t take her up on her offer – talk to the others, burden them with my problems especially with Appa gone? No way. And there was nothing that could be done about the vibrations either – I’d give myself away every time. Though it’s not like anyone needed vibrations to know. It was obvious. Well, that would improve with time, I thought. If I just said the words enough, kept up the act, soon enough, I’d believe it myself. And then I wouldn’t be lying anymore. And then I would be a good person. Wouldn’t be F– _just wouldn’t be. Don’t fill in that blank. Let it be._

The drill had already reached the wall when we heard voices.

“Good … it up! ... to breathe!”

“I’m … telling me … do all day! … Chattering hog-monkey!”

Toph heard it too and stopped bending. “I think that’s Sokka and Katara! Come on, we have to see what’s happening!”

We ran towards the sound, and when we got there, we saw Katara bending a wave of slurry into the drill. Inside that slurry was Ty Lee – so she was no longer a threat, thankfully.

“You guys need some help?” said Toph.

“Toph, (y/n), help me plug up this drain.”

The three of us worked together to bend the slurry, sending Ty Lee deep into the drill, the pipes straining and swelling under the pressure. And then, the drill began to tremble. It was slight, at first – gentle vibrations in the metal, but very soon, the drill was creaking and convulsing, and then –

“Here it comes!” shouted Toph, bending us onto a rock pillar to avoid the ensuing flood. Sludge spurted everywhere, spilling out all over the ground, slamming Ty Lee into a rock with the impact. Steam started to come from the drill and, soon enough, the segments were collapsing. And, after penetrating deep into the great wall of Ba Sing Se, the drill finally came to a halt.

* * *

We stood on top of the wall, looking down at the mess below. Thankfully, it was over, and nobody was hurt. We were inside the city now, beyond the wall where nobody could find us, and it felt nice for once not to be constantly on the run. We didn’t have to be alert all the time. We could finally relax.

Of course, I couldn’t fully rest. I had a lot of work to do – I had to keep learning to bend air and earth, had to throw myself into my training as much as my teachers would allow it. I couldn’t be helpless again – I needed to get Aang to teach me more offensive moves, and Toph to keep teaching me beyond the basics. With the level I was at now, I couldn’t really hold my own against anyone, and I needed to change that, needed earth and air to become instinctual, second nature, instead of just mild support the way they were now. And I needed to learn waterbending as well, had to get at least somewhere with it, even if it wasn’t very far. I’d try it on my own, maybe. Katara’s suffered enough with me, anyway – I could at least teach myself the very basics – had to try, at least, until it wasn’t so much of a struggle, until it wasn’t the hardest element – I had to prove Roku wrong. And above all, I had to find Appa. We all did. So, with that in mind, I tuned back into the conversation that the others had been having for the past couple minutes.

“I just want to say, good effort out there today, Team Avatar!” said Sokka.

“Enough with the Team Avatar stuff,” groaned Katara. “No matter how many times you say it, it’s not going to catch on.”

“How about… the Boomeraang Squad! See, it’s good because it’s got Aang in it. Boomer – _Aang_.”

Aang grinned. “I kind of like that one.”

“Let’s talk about this on our way to the city,” said Katara, walking away.

“The Aang Gang?”

“Sokka…”

“The Fearsome Fivesome?”

“You’re crazy.”

“Why? We’re fearsome!”

And so, we all walked away, leaving the wall behind us, onward to peace and safety and a better place. At least, back then, that was what we thought.


End file.
